


Something Special, Something Sacred

by RoonilWazlibMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bereavement (Non-Canonical and Canonical), Blow Jobs, Bondage mentions, Bottom Harry Potter, Bruises, Collars, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Consent, Daddy Kink, Depression, Felching, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Fisting mention, Fluff and Smut, Good Lucius Malfoy, HP Daddy Fest 2020, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Marking, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War, Praise Kink, Public Humiliation, Rimming, Sex Club, Songfic, Spanking, Subdrop, Top Lucius Malfoy, Weight Loss Mentions, Whipping/Flogging Mentions, face fucking, mentions of physical violence, self-destructive thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoonilWazlibMalfoy/pseuds/RoonilWazlibMalfoy
Summary: Lucius Malfoy's life had fallen apart after the war. In an attempt to curb his desperate loneliness, he ventured into the muggle world. There he found more than he could have ever dreamed.Harry Potter was a mess after the war. Isolated from everyone he had ever known and loved, he ventured into the muggle world to lose himself. Instead, he found himself and so much more.Or how Lucius and Harry learned that sometimes being different is exactly what you need to be sane.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 48
Kudos: 493
Collections: HP Daddy Fest 2020





	1. I Have Had Enough of Crime

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for HP Daddy Fest. I self-prompted to write a Lucius/Harry story loosely based on Father Figure by George Michael. 
> 
> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta, @MoonlitMarauder and to the HP Daddy Fest Mods for doing such an incredible job with this!
> 
> **note: The Wicked Witch is a club entirely of my own creation. I am not sure if it is terribly accurate to real life BDSM Club experiences, but at least it's fun. It comes up several times throughout this story.

He woke up from a dream of soft blond hair and pale blue eyes. He could still hear her teasing voice, her laughter, the gentle way she said "I love you," and the soft sound of her singing to their infant son. He could still smell her lilac perfume, could still feel the touch of her smooth fingers. It all haunted him.

It haunted him because Narcissa Malfoy, his beautiful bride, was no more. She had been lost forever when she'd done the bravest and noblest thing he'd ever witnessed, aside from, perhaps, when the Potter boy had taken down the Dark Lord for good. He could still hear the crack in her voice as she said "dead", he could still see the deadly green light hit her after Potter proved to be, in fact, quite far from death. 

Yes, his bold brilliant wife had saved them all. No one else acknowledged that, really. Potter had certainly been more grandiose at the time and, to be fair, he had been the one to deal the final blow. But Narcissa had made it possible and she had paid dearly for it. 

Lucius had paid dearly for it as well. 

After the battle was over, their son had glared at him accusingly. Lucius couldn't hold that against him. He was right, after all. Their family had followed him into the service of a madman and they had lost everything. He deserved his son's contempt. He knew this and he accepted it.

It was really thanks to Narcissa's bravery that he remained where he was. Well, that and his frantic scramble to find Draco while the battle raged around him. It had been obvious that the Malfoy family had truly defected, that they had no interest in assisting the Dark Lord to victory. Sure, he had been required to pay some hefty sums in reparation, but he had done so willingly and gratefully, even giving beyond what had been mandated. He had helped to cause this mess and if his gold could help to fix it, he wouldn't hold back. 

Still he remained persona non grata in the wizarding world. They would take his money but they would not take him. He was met with open hostility if he ventured into Diagon Alley; Aurors eyed him suspiciously on the occasions that he went to the Ministry to drop off galleons for one cause or another. He did not begrudge them this for even a second. He knew that he deserved it all and more.

But he was lonely. Lucius Malfoy had never considered himself to be the kind of person who needed others. He loved his family, he loved the authority and respect he held within their world, but he hadn't realised that, with these things stripped from him, the grand manor home and all the gold in the world would seem pointless. He had never felt lonely before, but now he felt its dull pain clearly.

Something had to change.

It was in an effort to quell this gut-wrenching loneliness that Lucius ventured, for the first time, into the Muggle world. He obtained rich dark suits of the Muggle style; they were more constricting than wizarding robes but, as he gazed into the mirror, he could admit that he still cut quite an imposing figure in a finely tailored suit, his pale hair tied smoothly back and his black cane ever-present in his hand. 

From Wiltshire, he Apparated directly to London. No sense in Flooing to the Leaky Cauldron and enduring the withering glares from witches and wizards he'd have once looked down his regal nose at. 

He stopped into a bookshop and found that they sold coffee and scones right inside. Muggles were truly strange creatures, he thought. 

However, after purchasing a newspaper he recognized the practicality of it. He had nowhere else to go and other Muggles were doing the same. He was trying to understand them, to fit in with them, so he ordered coffee and calmly sat sipping it while he read their Muggle paper, always keeping one eye warily on the Muggles around him. Perhaps wizards could learn something from this. He tried to imagine Flourish and Blotts, their crowded shelves pushed aside to make space for coffee and snacks, softly chuckling at the thought.

He still feared Muggles a bit though. He read their newspaper. He read about their armies and their wars; they could blow up all of Diagon Alley, all of Hogwarts in mere seconds, should they choose to. But the Muggles around him currently didn't seem particularly violent as they sipped their beverages and shopped for books. Honestly, they didn't seem so different from witches and wizards with the exception of doing all things manually. It must be exhausting, he thought. 

Lucius spent more and more time in Muggle London over the next few months, growing ever more comfortable with their simple ways and with the lack of attention they paid to him. They served him courteously when he ordered something, often with a smile, and then went about their business. He slowly came to the conclusion that governments and strong regimes may always be something dangerous, whether wizard or Muggle, but the people themselves were really no different from one another.

With his growing level of comfort, he moved farther into Muggle culture. 

He visited the cinema to watch the films he read about in the paper. His first opinion of them was that they were loud and confusing, but he found that once he became accustomed to the noise, he could actually enjoy it, provided he read up on the film's plot before viewing. 

He visited pubs and sampled various Muggle-made ales and wines which were surprisingly just as good as wizard or elf-made wares. He took to spending hours each evening in pubs, letting the pleasant atmosphere and the sound of people wash over him. Sometimes eager Muggles approached him for conversation and he found that, with his new enjoyment of Muggle books and films, he could actually relate to them on a superficial level. He was delighted with it honestly. He was sure that the Lucius he'd been a year ago would have Avada Kedavra'd himself instead of enduring this, but he was not that wizard anymore. And he was not quite so lonely any longer.

It did come to his attention that, should he desire to, he could take one of these Muggles home with him or follow them to their own residence. Many of them were attractive enough. Under the cover of darkness in his own bedroom, his cock sometimes throbbed with need, and an attractive Muggle could certainly help with that. But it never seemed right. These people were taking him in, accepting him into their culture even if they didn't know it; he couldn't bring himself to take advantage of their attraction when they could never know exactly what he was. Further proof that he was a rather different man these days.

One August night found Lucius walking through the backstreets of London looking for something a bit different. He didn't know exactly what he expected to find, but he had read about nightclubs with bright lights, loud music, and dancing Muggles and he was curious. He wasn't sure it would be his scene precisely, but he wanted to experience it at least once. When he came across a dimly lit place called The Wicked Witch, he felt that this must be the right one. The name alone seemed to call to him.

A large bouncer at the door looked him over and, with a smirk, let him in. Blond aristocratic head held high, he made his way through the door unsure what he'd find here or why the doorman had looked at him like that but determined to retain his dignity regardless.

Nothing could have prepared him for the things he saw inside The Wicked Witch. Well, perhaps being acquainted with Bellatrix, the quintessential wicked witch might have done so, but his late wife's sister was not a thought he liked to dwell upon. Here, leather-clad Muggles tied their partners up with intricately knotted ropes. Some Muggles sat drinking while others sat at their feet, being fed by hand, rapturous looks upon their faces. One Muggle was chained naked on a raised platform in front of a small crowd, being whipped and thanking her partner through her tears for every lash. The smell of smoke and alcohol and leather permeated the air.

Lucius found a seat at a bar and ordered a martini, gazing around equal parts confused, intrigued, and aroused. The drink was cool on his lips; his face was flaming. He had never seen nor heard of anything like this, this den of iniquity. He had seen people tortured and harmed; he had never seen anyone happy about it before.

"You look a little lost, Daddy." A dark-haired Muggle boy stood beside him looking faintly amused.

Lucius sucked in a breath at the title, but did his best to put on his cool Malfoy mask for the boy. "I confess," he responded slowly, "I have never seen the likes of this before." 

"You like it though," the boy said. It wasn't a question.

Lucius nodded. "I believe that I do," he said somewhat in disbelief. Was this not the kind of thing he was leaving behind? But, no. These Muggles seemed happy, they seemed safe, their needs, no matter how dark and depraved, were being met. Perhaps, instead, this was exactly the kind of thing he'd been seeking. Perhaps he'd been seeking it forever. 

"Well, Daddy," the boy spoke again. "This is a BDSM club. Look around, see what you like, learn what you can, and look me up if you ever need someone to take care of." He winked. "My name's Corban. I'm here a lot."

Lucius nodded again, studying the boy's smooth pale face, his dark wavy hair, his cool blue eyes. "I will do so," he murmured. 

"Please do," Corban smirked. "See you around, Daddy." 

With that, he left Lucius sitting at the bar incredulously, martini in hand. He certainly knew what the topic of the next books he purchased would be at any rate. "Daddy," he mused. "Indeed."


	2. Understand Me

Harry Potter was an actual mess. 

He had been so happy when the war was over, when Voldemort was finally vanquished. He had been so happy that he'd finally be able to move forward with his life. He remembered kissing Ginny passionately, there in front of everyone. It was his time! His time to have a girlfriend and a life of his own, his time to finally be normal.

He spoke up for the Malfoys who had, in essence, saved his life, had made victory possible. He spoke for the dead and the wounded. He mourned and he cried. He looked ahead to a time when things would be good.

Things were not good, though. His friends were patient with him. Everyone had been grieving and living with the aftermath of tragedy and devastation. They all understood him for a time, because they were dealing with it too.

Slowly, though, they all healed. Hermione went back to school to complete her lost 7th year. Ron joined the Auror Corps and began training. Their lives had really begun. They started fresh new careers and began planning a wedding. 

Ginny, too, finished her 7th year. She immediately got recruited by the Holyhead Harpies to play Quidditch professionally. Neville began studying herbology with a purpose and Luna went off to search for new magical creatures. Seamus and Dean moved into a London flat together. Even Draco Malfoy seemed to be doing well after beginning a courtship with the younger sister of one of their classmates.

Everyone — friends, enemies, and acquaintances — were moving on with their lives. Everyone except for Harry. Harry had not yet begun to heal. 

He had seen so much death and destruction, he remained so plagued by panic attacks and nightmares, he knew that joining the Aurors was not for him. He had not been recruited to play Quidditch, although if he pursued it he probably could have gotten a contract easily enough. He didn't want to step on Ginny's toes though, couldn't bear possibly playing against her, so he left it alone. Outside of escaping the fire in the Room of Requirement, he hadn't picked up a broom in ages anyway. He really didn't know what to do; he really didn't want to do anything at all.

His friends were patient and supportive for a time. They went out drinking with him. They allowed him to get far too drunk and listened to him cry about the war and the lives that had been lost. They tried to reassure him that it hadn't been his fault, although he never believed them. They stopped him from picking fights with strangers. 

Gradually, though, it all became too much for them. He didn't blame them at all. He knew that he was a mess. He deserved to be alone. He deserved to be punished. He was a freak, after all. He was a murderer. His family hadn't ever been wrong about him.

One by one, they all stopped coming out with him. Then they all stopped making excuses for not coming out. And then they stopped contacting him altogether, except to beg him to please get help, to please get his shit together. Eventually, it even got to be too much for Ginny. He no longer kissed her, no longer touched her. He didn't deserve to. It was his fault that her brother had died, after all. Then she was gone as well, the concern in her brown eyes evident as she asked him to call her when he was ready to move forward.

He would. He'd definitely call her, he told himself. Just not right now. He couldn't bear any of them right now, with their worry and their sympathy. He couldn't bear the way they refused to punish him for what he had caused. He couldn't bear the way they tried to stop him from punishing himself. Their absence was a punishment of sorts and he could accept that much more easily than he could accept their kindness. It was what he deserved.

When all the wizarding pubs he knew of began refusing to serve him, no longer interested in seeing how far their savior had fallen, he began going to Muggle pubs. He'd go out, drink himself stupid, and pick a fight with the biggest bloke he could find. With his smart mouth, he found that it wasn't difficult to goad someone into hitting him, to beating him up. This was what he deserved, he thought each night as he stumbled, bleeding, back to Grimmauld Place. He deserved their rage and their fists. He deserved the bruises, the split lips, the aching joints. It was all he could do to atone for what he'd caused. 

With every hit he took he remembered their names: Colin, Lavender, Hedwig, Fred, Severus, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Dumbledore, James, Lily. The names of those he had lost. The names of those who had died for him. He repeated their names like a mantra in his mind as he reached for redemption through spilled blood and broken skin. He sought what he knew he could never attain.

It was late December when everything changed. Christmas had come and gone but it really meant nothing to him. He had refused owls and gifts, he had blocked off his Floo. He only wanted the things he knew that he deserved.

He went to another pub, he ordered another shot. "This is who I am now," he thought. He poured the burning liquor down his throat, easing his pain and memories, loosening his tongue. "Watch where you're going, you fucking Clydesdale!" he spat when he bumped into someone on his way back to the bar. He braced himself for the fight, for the sweet release it could bring him. The names, his mantra, came to his mind as he awaited the sweet oblivion of the fight.

All that came, though, were cool firm hands on his shoulders and a smooth voice cutting through his thoughts. "Come along, Mr. Potter. I shall take you home."

"You know this punk?" he heard the Clydesdale spit.

"I do," the smooth voice replied confidently. "He is an old… friend of my son's. I'll see him out and he shan't bother you again."

Then he was led away from his fight, away from his redemption. He tried to protest but, after a flash of a wand and a murmured spell from that cool voice, he found he couldn't really be bothered. Not right now. He'd come back and fight another day.

He found himself sagging into the arms of the stranger, arms wrapped in rich dark cloth, arms that embraced him. He felt the squeezing sensation of side-along Apparition and then he knew no more for a time.


	3. In Your Eyes

Lucius laid the boy across the settee in his sitting-room before settling himself elegantly into his armchair. Crossing his long legs, he observed Potter: the way his wild hair curled over his ears, the way his thin chest rose and fell with each breath, the way his arm flopped off the couch leaving the calloused fingers of one bronze-coloured hand curled against the soft carpet. Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, was an utter mess, Lucius decided. 

Despite his obvious attractiveness, there was clearly something going on with the boy. Bruises, both old and new, marred his dark cheeks, and probably his back and ribs as well, Lucius thought, considering the way he'd been trying to tempt a large Muggle into fighting him in the pub. His lip had been split repeatedly and never healed, from the looks of it. The Boy Who Lived may just have a second scar gracing his face from that. Lucius also noted that when he had pulled Mr. Potter close to Apparate him to Wiltshire, he had smelled largely of sweat and blood and cheap liquor. He wondered how long it had been since the boy had even bathed. 

Yes, Lucius decided, he was indeed a mess. He was probably feeling loss and guilt, was possibly affected by the PTSD that he had read about in Muggle books about surviving after trauma, and he apparently had no one to help him recover from any of it. 

Lacing his long pale fingers together, he rested his chin on his hands and considered the best way to handle this situation. He decided that waking him, feeding him a sober up potion, and attempting to talk to him would be the best thing he could do for the time being. As he stood to retrieve the potion, though, the Boy Who Lived began muttering in his sleep. "Punish…. Deserve it," Lucius caught him saying and raised a pale eyebrow. When he began murmuring the names of people who had died in the war, Lucius hurried away to get the potion, noting with some annoyance that his wife's name had not made the list.

When he returned, he slowly poured the potion into Harry Potter's mouth and gently coaxed him to swallow, marveling at how surreal this whole evening was becoming. A drunken and depressed savior falling practically right into his lap and claiming to deserve punishment. Of all things! 

When the potion had gone down and Potter seemed to be resting easily, Lucius pointed his wand at the boy's chest and softly said "Ennervate," holding him still as his green eyes flew open in shock. 

"Malfoy," he groaned. "What the… where am I?"

"Calm yourself, Mr. Potter," Lucius said softly. "You are at my home in Wiltshire. I have prevented you from receiving what would appear to be yet another beating from a Muggle far larger than yourself."

Potter glared daggers at him. "What right do you have to do that, you bloody Death Eater?"

Lucius cocked his head as he pondered that question. What right, indeed. "My wife," he responded sharply, "traded her life for yours. This is a terrible way to honor that sacrifice and, since none of your precious friends seem to be bothered, it apparently falls to me to help you."

Harry looked pained at that. His face fell and he lowered his green eyes as he murmured, "Narcissa," as if the mention of her sweet name hurt him. "I've been trying to atone for their losses," he said softly. "I'm so sorry that I hadn't thought of her."

Lucius pursed his lips as he looked at the boy. He looked even smaller than before. "Quite," he finally responded. "Well, fortunately I cannot seem to stop thinking of her, so it's no trouble for me to remind you." He sighed, suddenly feeling deeply weary. "Now what nonsense are you speaking when you claim to wish for atonement, Mr. Potter? Surely being a drunken wastrel who picks fights in Muggle pubs is not the best way to repay those who gave their lives that you and their loved ones might live."

The spark came back into his eyes as he inhaled sharply at Lucius' words. "That's just the thing, though, isn't it Malfoy? I can never repay them because they're gone! I deserve to be punished for their loss. That's all I deserve…" he broke off. "I'm a freak," he finished under his breath. 

Lucius smirked as he answered the dejected savior. "I think, Mr. Potter, that freak is a relative term. However, I would be delighted to dish out the punishment you so desire, but not until you pull yourself together." His face softened as he finished. "I am willing to help you. It has been far too long since I have had anyone to care for and I have to wonder if you've ever had anyone to care for you."

Potter regarded him warily. "What does any of that even mean, Malfoy?"

"Why, Mr. Potter," Lucius bit his lip as he gazed back coolly, "it means whatever you'd like it to mean."

With that, he showed Harry Potter to a guest room, making sure to point out the en suite and firmly stating that he must clean himself up before going to bed. Then he left, heading to his own bedroom. It was quite some time before sleep overtook him though. His mind was buzzing with the varied possibilities that could arise from this latest turn of events, each one more intriguing than the last.


	4. You Are the Desert

Harry's head was more or less clear for the first time in months. On the one hand, he wondered what the hell he was doing here accepting hospitality from one Lucius Malfoy. On the other hand, everything that he'd been dealing with lately had brought him here; here to a person who seemed oddly understanding, yet firm enough to simply make Harry do what he wanted simply by virtue of expecting it to be done. On the other hand… "oi, no, I'm out of hands now," he thought.

He tossed his stinking clothes on the floor as he stepped into the most luxurious bathroom he thought he'd ever seen. The tub was deep and sparkling clean in a way that Grimmauld Place's bathrooms could never be no matter how much they were scrubbed. Not that he really did a lot of scrubbing anymore. Aunt Petunia would be ashamed of him, he thought, laughing to himself. All the more reason to not do any scrubbing, really.

At a touch of his hand, steamy water and bubbles smelling softly of sandalwood poured out of the taps. The tub filled quickly and he hissed as he lowered his bruised and battered body into the water, marveling at the fact that Lucius must have seen some of these injuries, at least, and still had not deigned to heal them. He felt oddly grateful; the man must have recognized that he was fully capable of healing himself — well, he was when he was sober anyway — but he kept them for a reason.

He supposed that he ought to feel rather humiliated. Proud aristocratic Lord Malfoy had certainly seen him at his lowest tonight. Well, ignoring the fact that his lowest was precisely where he'd been living for the past 18 months or so. He wasn't really ashamed though. Everyone had seen Lucius Malfoy's lowest, and boy what a low it had been. 

Harry could still remember the elder Malfoy's craggy face and dirty hair as he had stepped away from his wife's dead body, frantic to locate his son. He could still remember his hurt look, quickly masked by calm acceptance, in the courtroom as Draco snubbed his father after they had both been acquitted for their crimes. Yes, Lucius Malfoy was no stranger to the low points in life and it made Harry feel rather gratified. All of his friends had seen him low, that was for certain. But surely none could sympathize the way that Lord Malfoy likely could.

And what was that business about taking care of him, Harry wondered. He looked down at the filthy water surrounding him and vanished it, disgustedly, before refilling the tub with clean hot water. Who could possibly want to take care of someone like him?

Well. Perhaps someone who was just as broken as him might. Someone else who understood what the war had cost, who sought their own refuge in the Muggle world. He couldn't deny that it was tempting to give in, to allow Lord Malfoy to take charge, to dish out punishment as he saw fit. Harry knew that he deserved no better.

Either way, Malfoy was certainly right. He had needed to clean himself and he could use a good night's sleep. He drained the water again and climbed out of the tub, pulling on the soft robe that was waiting there for him. He studied his face in the mirror before venturing into the bedroom. He hardly recognized the face he saw gazing back at him, save for his mother's green eyes. His cheeks were hollow and his dark skin looked almost chalky, bruises littered his face and body. This was what Harry Potter had become, what he deserved, he thought harshly, exiting the bathroom and flopping down onto the soft bed.

When morning came, Harry was awoken suddenly by the bright rays of the eastern sun shining on his face.

"Come, Mr. Potter, it's time to be up!" Lucius said firmly. 

Harry groaned. He had no idea what time it was but he was fairly certain that it was not, in fact, time to be up. Seeing as he had no job, he honestly had no time to be up. He'd just had the best night of sleep possibly in his life and he was not particularly interested in seeing it end yet.

Unfortunately Lucius had other plans. After sufficiently brightening the room by opening all curtains, he pulled the fluffy duvet off of Harry. "My, my, Mr. Potter. Sleeping in only a bathrobe. And a rather revealing one at that" he smirked, his grey eyes gleaming. "Interesting…"

Harry quickly covered himself, glaring at Malfoy. "Well, I didn't expect anyone to be barging in while I slept, you know," he huffed. Lucius just gazed coolly at him then laid his folded clothes on the end of the bed.

"Dipsy has cleaned these for you," he said with obvious distaste. "Please get dressed and we'll be off."

After he had left and closed the door behind him, Harry lay back down, burrowing himself into the duvet once more with a sigh. His pleasure lasted all of 30 seconds before a house-elf in a pillowcase popped into the room.

"Master Malfoy is telling Dipsy to make sure Harry Potter is out of bed, sir," the elf said, wringing its tiny hands.

Harry huffed some more. What made Lucius think he hadn't gotten up? Honestly! Never mind that he was correct. "Okay, Dipsy. Ta everso for that," he said gruffly while climbing out of the bed. 

"Harry Potter is being welcome!" the elf beamed and Harry rolled his eyes. He snatched his clothes off the bed and made his way into the en suite. Pulling the clothes on, he was at least grateful that they smelled better. Surveying himself, though, he could see why Lord Malfoy found them distasteful. His Weasley-made jumper was unraveling at the seams and his baggy jeans were threadbare. He shrugged. Not like it really mattered what he looked like. At least his face looked a bit better after a good night's sleep.

After he was dressed, Dipsy led him to the dining room where he found Lord Malfoy dressed in a very nice yet very Muggle suit, his blond hair smoothed back into a low ponytail, his ivory skin flawless. Harry's mouth went dry just looking at the man who was merely sitting there, one long leg elegantly crossed over the other, reading a newspaper. 

"Ah, you're up," he had the audacity to say.

"Obviously I'm up. You knew I was up! You and your elf both made sure of it," he snapped.

Finally Lucius' grey eyes fixed on him and he raised a pale eyebrow. "Quite," he said dryly, gesturing toward a chair that Harry was apparently meant to sit in. 

He sat and then thought about the room he was in. It had been the frequent setting of his nightmares at one time, but it didn't look the same at all. Natural light brightened the room considerably, the cool white walls practically shone. 

"I've redecorated, of course," Lucius spoke up and Harry jumped, only just realizing that he was being observed. "I had no desire to be reminded of that man and the atrocities he committed in my home," he shuddered belying his cool confidence. 

Harry just nodded and gazed at him, realizing that there was more to Lucius Malfoy than he would have ever expected. After a moment, a plate of fresh fruit and yoghurt appeared before him with a cup of rich-smelling black coffee and he glanced at Lucius again before tentatively reaching out for the coffee. He knew he hadn't asked for anything, but surely it wouldn't have appeared before him if it had been intended for anyone else.

"Please do eat," Lucius said. "We have a rather busy day, I believe, and as you look like you haven't had a decent meal in months you will certainly need the energy."

Harry reached out and took a bite before his thoughts caught up with him and he spluttered "What the hell, Malfoy?" The other man just looked at him, faint amusement showing on his aristocratic face. "What am I even doing here?" Harry said slightly louder than before. "I'm not… I mean, I don't have plans. I'm not busy."

Malfoy hummed with amusement before taking a sip of his coffee. "Mr. Potter, I told you that I would take care of you." His eyes met Harry's and he was surprised at the sincerity that shone in them. "This is me taking care of you."

Harry looked away, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable. He struggled to cling to his anger because he wasn't sure precisely how to cope with any other emotion. "Why?" he asked flatly. "Why would you even want to take care of me?"

Grasping Harry's chin in a cool hand, he gently made Harry look up to meet his eyes once more. "Because, Mr. Potter," he said softly, "I think we both need it."


	5. I'll Be the Sea

Lucius began to understand why Harry Potter's clothes looked the way that they did around the same time that he began wishing he had simply taken measurements and done the shopping himself. He had never seen anyone who seemed to hate shopping and attention as much as Harry did. 

"Look, Malfoy," he snapped as he stepped into the changing room, "if you insist on doing this, can't we just grab some jeans and t-shirts and call it a day? I don't need all of this!"

"Mr. Potter," he sighed. "I assure you that you do need all of this, particularly for as long as you remain with me. Of course you may have jeans and t-shirts for day-to-day attire if you wish," he said, waving in slight distaste, "but you will require other types of garments for other occasions." He did not mention the fact that he was very much enjoying the sight of Harry's lithe body trying on all types of clothes. He looked just as delectable in a beautifully fitted suit as he did in the soft denim that he seemed to favour. 

"And just what 'occasion' will require these?" Harry asked sharply as he stormed out of the changing room again.

Lucius sucked in a breath at the sight before him before turning a smug smile on Harry. "They fit perfectly. And don't worry yourself over it, Mr. Potter," he replied smoothly. "You'll find out soon enough." He didn't intend for Harry to find out terribly soon, if he was being honest. He simply wasn't ready for the club at this point, and likely wouldn't be for some time. Still, judging by his obvious dislike of shopping, it would be best to get as much of it done in one go as possible. And the sight of Harry's perky arse swathed in tight-fitting leather trousers was more than worth listening to his complaints.

"Perfectly?" Harry squawked incredulously before lowering his voice. "You can see my cock they're so tight!"

Lucius raised a pale eyebrow, smug smile still in place. "Precisely."

Harry spluttered and rolled his eyes and turned back toward the changing room without another word. "Ah, Harry," Lucius called after him, testing the feel of the boy's first name on his lips, "do put the dark denims and the green shirt back on. You can wear that for today." He was certain they had picked out enough for the time being. As Harry started to eat regularly, his size might change, so there was really no point in buying anything beyond what was necessary.

He busied himself by picking out socks and several styles of pants for Harry, certain that none of what he currently possessed would be up to Malfoy standards. After Harry stepped out wearing what Lucius had told him to put on, he passed what he had picked out to a sales clerk and informed her that they'd take everything that Harry had tried on.

"What, all of that?" Harry asked, obviously surprised.

"Of course," Lucius said nonchalantly. "It all fits and you clearly need it. Now you just need shoes. Then we can dispose of what you were wearing before and be done with all of this." He was pleased to have found everything at the first shop and expected that Harry would be as well, but Harry surprised him again with a tentative objection. 

"Do we have to?" he asked softly.

"Do we have to what, Mr. Potter?"

"Erm. Well, I mean," Harry began sheepishly. "It's just. Well, Mrs. Weasley made me that jumper. Could I just keep it if I promise not to wear it?"

Clearly Lucius had much to learn about Harry Potter. He stopped and looked at Harry, carefully scrutinizing his attempt at looking casual even while his eyes revealed such longing and sadness and apparent resignation; he seemed to be assuming that Lucius would not allow him to keep something that obviously meant much to him. 

Lucius reached out to run a pale knuckle along Harry's golden jawline. "Of course, Harry," he said softly, intentionally using his first name again. "You needn't think me cold-hearted. I'm not that man any longer. We've lost too much to be dismissive of the sentimental things." 

Harry simply nodded without replying, but the soft smile on his face awoke something deep within Lucius. Or maybe that smile just made him aware of something that had awoken the moment he saw Harry, broken and practically begging for violence, the previous night. 

He wanted Harry Potter. He had known already that he desired him, that he wanted to introduce him to the world of pleasure wrapped in pain that he'd discovered that hot summer night months ago. But the realization that he truly wanted Harry, that he wanted to take care of him, not for what he could get out of it but for what he could give to the boy, was something different. It was something he had never dared to hope for again after the loss of his family. 

His mind full, he paid for the things he'd picked for Harry, neither noticing nor caring about the total. He gathered their purchases and, offering his arm to Harry, led him to the next store. 

Shopping for shoes with Harry proved to be a bit less stressful than shopping for clothing. He supposed that trying on shoes was less invasive than trying on heaps of clothing. He suspected that Potter had never even been shopping for clothes before, outside of Madam Malkins where the fitting was done magically. It was no matter, though, he thought. He would do his best to make sure that Harry eventually became used to having money and attention paid to him. He certainly deserved someone's time and care, even if that someone was a former Death Eater.

He purchased new trainers for Harry as well as a pair of soft black dress shoes which would go nicely with a variety of finer clothes. He was also all too pleased to pay for the first thing that Harry had shown any interest in at all: a pair of sturdy oxblood Dr Martens boots. He didn't even object to the Gryffindor-ish colouring of them; he was too delighted at the satisfied look on Harry's face as he laced them up and pulled his trouser legs down over them. 

With that all taken care of, Lucius slipped into an Alley and discreetly called Dipsy to take their purchases back to the Manor to be put away in Harry's room. Dipsy happily agreed and Lucius felt a surge of thankfulness for the little elf. When he turned back to Harry, though, he caught a look of profound grief on his face. He quickly made to step over to him but Harry backed away. 

"What is it, Mr. Potter?" he asked, honestly baffled at what could have provoked this kind of reaction.

"Dobby," Harry croaked out. Understanding and, surprisingly, remorse filled Lucius. 

"Ah," he said simply, quietly. "Of course. Not one of my… finer moments."

Harry glared at him, green eyes suddenly full of rage. "Damn right it wasn't!" he hissed. "I'm not sure you have any finer moments, Malfoy. I don't even know what the hell I'm doing with you! You're a Death Eater!"

Lucius straightened his spine and raised his head proudly, ignoring the phantom twinge in his left forearm. Of course, he thought. This contempt was what he should have expected all along. This is what he was used to from the wizarding world and he certainly should have expected it from the savior, vanquisher of the Dark Lord. He had simply allowed himself to get caught up with Potter after finding him in the Muggle world, seeming so lost and sad. It was silly that he had even dared to hope for something more than this. 

"Mr. Potter," he began, sounding far more confident than he felt. "Would you please accompany me to lunch. I know a quiet place where we might talk. Beyond that, you're of course free to take your new clothes and go back to your home, although I would implore you to at least contact your friends. You're far too isolated for your own mental wellbeing."

Shocked green eyes looked back at him warily from behind thick spectacles. Lucius could practically see the cogs turning in Harry's mind; likely he was trying to reconcile the Lucius Malfoy who had treated his old elf so unfairly with this Lucius who rescued him from a bar fight and bought him new clothes. If it hadn't been so undignified, Lucius would have snorted. There was no reconciling that. The war had changed him, his losses had changed him. He regretted his actions and the man he'd once been, but he recognized the drastic changes within himself. He would attempt to show that to Harry over lunch, if he'd allow it, but being honest, he didn't dare to hope that it would work.

Harry breathed slowly, obviously trying to reign in his famous temper. "Alright," he finally agreed. "I'll go to lunch. I've nothing better to do anyway."

Lucius closed his eyes and breathed deeply, thankful that Harry was at least giving him a chance. They stepped out of the alley and he began leading Harry to the little bistro around the corner.


	6. If You Ever Hunger

Harry really didn't know what he was doing. It had been months since his mind had felt this clear and now he was sort of wishing he could go back to being the depressed drunk that he'd been yesterday. 

He thought about Dobby as they walked. Dobby with his bright smile and wide eyes when Harry had managed to free him from the Malfoys back in second year, Dobby in a tiny grave by the beach that Harry himself had dug by hand. He realised then that this was another name he had managed to leave off of his list and considered that maybe the list could never be complete. What could he possibly deserve if he had done so much damage to the world that he loved that he couldn't even remember it all?

That thought firmly in place, he wondered how he could think himself better than Malfoy. Malfoy who had lost so much because of Harry, yet was still here strong and proud and giving all that he could back to a world he could no longer even be a part of. Malfoy who seemed to be more than willing to give anything he could to Harry even knowing what Harry had cost him. Malfoy was certainly doing better than he was and he wondered how on earth he could be standing here judging the man so harshly. 

He was so lost in thought and self-deprecation that he was surprised to find they'd arrived at the restaurant Lucius had been leading him to. He stood quietly by the man's side as they waited to be seated and then sat quietly across from him as he stared unseeingly at the menu.

He was shaken from his thoughts when Lucius touched his hand and asked softly, "Shall I order for you?" He nodded back. He hadn't even realised it was time to order. 

After politely ordering their food, Lucius began speaking to Harry. As he listened to the man, sounding so much less confident than normal, his grey eyes full of remorse, Harry’s already softened heart began to break a bit more for Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, of all people. Harry knew that he had a foul temper and it seemed that he’d let it run away, yet again, toward someone who might once have deserved his ire, but certainly didn’t anymore. 

“When I was younger,” Lucius told him in a soft voice, “I was exactly what I’d been raised to be. I was a quintessential Slytherin: ambitious, proud, cunning, and, above all, I hated Muggles. I had always been told how dangerous they were and I didn’t know any better at the time, not that that's a good excuse. I hated them because I feared them and hatred is so much easier to live with when one is so proud, as I once was. But it’s no less destructive.”

Harry studied him as if seeing him for the first time. He didn’t expect this proud aristocratic man to open up to him like this in a Muggle bistro. 

“I joined the Dark Lord because he said what I wanted to hear, what we all wanted to hear,” Lucius chuckled darkly. “We wanted to be safe from Muggles, we wanted to not have to hide from them. We wanted to protect our culture from the Muggle-borns that were coming in and changing everything, from our holidays to our traditions; our entire way of life was threatened, or so I thought. So he said.

“And once he had us believing him, it was easy to turn that fear and hatred into anger and violence, into an anger that never really left me. Not until I lost Narcissa, not until I lost Draco. Until then, I was a cruel man, driven only by anger, fear, and hatred. I didn’t even know what I had or how precious it all was until it was gone.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably as Lucius stopped and studied him. He was grateful that their food had arrived and he could look down at his plate. Anything to break the intensity of Lucius’ gaze. 

Lucius must have seen what he hoped to see because he looked down at his own plate, took a sip of tea, and continued on. “After the war, I ventured into the Muggle world. I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he said. “And I’ve learned that they are really no different from us. I’ve done a lot of reading, Mr. Potter, and I’ve spent a lot of time with Muggles. I’m not angry anymore because I’ve come to understand a lot about myself and a lot about the people my fear and hatred was once focused on. I regret many things from my life. I regret almost everything from my life, if we’re being honest. But I do not regret the fact that my outlook has changed. I only regret what it took to change it.”

“Had I been a better man, a stronger man, I might have realized all of this years ago. I might still have my family. But what’s done is done and I sit here simply asking you to recognize that I am no longer that Death Eater you once saw harming his defenseless house-elf.” Lucius winced as he spoke of poor Dobby. “And I do not think that you are the same as you once were either, Mr. Potter. I would like the chance to show you that things can be different and that different can be, in many ways, better.”

Harry was surprised to find tears in his eyes as Lucius finished his speech. He was right, of course. Everything was different so there was no reason that Lucius Malfoy should be the same. Harry was certainly different. Hell, his friends, the ones who had always stuck by him through any and everything, were different. No one had ever told him that different could be better though. He didn’t see how that would even be possible, but the stark changes in this proud man gave him a glimmer of hope. Maybe things truly could be better. 

“Okay,” he finally spoke for the first time since his outburst in the alley, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I mean, I’d like that, I think. I… You are different, Malfoy.” Lucius smirked as his grey eyes lit up, clearly pleased with Harry’s response. “I’d like to be a better kind of different too,” Harry said softly.

Lucius’ smirk softened into a tentative smile. “I’d like to help you, Harry.”

That evening, Harry begged to go to a pub, knowing that Lucius must go to them at least semi-regularly. The man refused, however, and Harry wondered how on earth he’d get through the night if he wasn’t allowed to drink or fight. 

“It is New Year’s Eve, Harry,” he told him calmly. “You don’t want to ruin anyone’s festivities, first of all, and I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way.”

Harry had forgotten about the holiday. How had he lost so much time?

Lucius simply brought out a backgammon board and began teaching Harry to play. Harry found the game rather confusing but Lucius allowed him a small glass of scotch at the end of the evening to toast in the New Year, so he found it better not to argue. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all, and Harry could admit to himself that he was feeling a bit better being sober just now, having spent a surprisingly normal day being told what to do by Lucius Malfoy. It was better than having to decide things for himself really; he had never had much choice about what to do before and when he did, it seemed that he made the wrong decision nine times out of ten. It was a relief to give up control to someone who seemed confident and reasonable.

If the old saying was true, that the way you spend the New Year sets a precedent for how your year will go, Harry thought he could be spending the coming year in worse ways than this. He rather found himself looking forward to it.

They spent the next several weeks much like they spent New Year’s Eve as a matter of fact. They went to the cinema and to the coffee shop and the bookstore. Lucius insisted that Harry read, for enjoyment if nothing else, and Harry discovered a great love of Muggle fantasy books. Their ideas about magic were wildly amusing to him. They played wizard's chess whenever Lucius felt like rubbing in how terrible Harry was at it; they also acquired several more Muggle board games that made much more sense to Harry than backgammon had done. At least he had a chance at victory with those. 

They went out to dinner some evenings and Harry found that he really didn't mind dressing up when he was with Lucius. His hair had grown long enough to fall in soft waves below his collar and he felt like they made quite a striking pair, one light, one dark, both in tailored Muggle suits. Still, Harry had not been asked to put on the tight leather trousers Lucius had purchased for him and his curiosity about them grew day by day.

Most of all, though, they talked. They discussed the war and their own experiences at Hogwarts (Lucius' had been far more drama-free than Harry's. Big surprise there). They discussed Harry's friends and how he didn't feel ready to be around them yet, even though he was doing quite a bit better these days. They talked about the people they had lost; Harry realised that it was very healing to remember them all, to honor their memories with words and laughter rather than drowning them out with fists and blood.

Lucius had been reading a lot about psychology even before he had taken Harry in. It was one thing that Muggles were leaps and bounds ahead of wizards on. He encouraged Harry to talk with him about everything and he did his best to help him, knowing that the wizarding world did not have healers that dealt with mental health and a Muggle psychologist would have no way of understanding what Harry had been through.

Harry found that it really did help. Lucius listened without judging and he offered him different ways of looking at things that put his issues into a better perspective. He researched when he needed to, finding coping mechanisms to help Harry to deal with his anxiety in ways that didn't involve drinking or fighting. There was still a little thought in the back of Harry's mind that he'd quite like to be punished, but it seemed less like a need and more like something darkly pleasurable. He was certain that particular wild thought would be worth examining in the future, but for now he was finally healing from the war, from all the manipulation and abuse he had suffered in his formative years. 

All of this culminated in one intense evening shortly after Valentine's Day. They had dressed up for the holiday and Lucius had taken him out on what Harry was quite certain was a date. They shared spaghetti bolognese, Harry's favourite, followed by champagne and strawberry shortcake. It had been simple but decadent, an honest reflection of the two of them together, Harry thought. 

But while Harry felt that he had been on a date with Lucius, and he found that, oddly, he didn't object to the idea, Lucius had still never touched him beyond running a manicured hand affectionately over Harry's cheek. He wasn't even sure why that bothered him, honestly. He had never been attracted to men before.

Well. He had been slightly obsessed with Lucius' own son for a while in sixth year. When he wasn't obsessing over the Half-Blood Prince, of course. And Cedric Diggory had been rather nice to look at, but everyone had thought so; it wasn't just him. And of course, he'd always found Bill Weasley to be pretty cool, with his long hair tied back…

"Oh Merlin," Harry thought. "I've always been attracted to men!" He wasn't terribly sure what to do with this information. It wasn't quite the big problem in the wizarding world as it was for some Muggles, so he wasn't overly concerned. He was honestly just irritated with himself for only realizing this now. It could certainly have saved him some confusion back when he was with Cho or Ginny.

The question now was what to do about it. Ok, so he was attracted to men. Was he attracted to Lucius Malfoy, though? Dumb question, really, he thought. Who wouldn't be attracted to Lucius bloody Malfoy? Especially if they knew the man the way he did now; if they knew how gentle he could be, how confident and dynamic he was, how he threw himself into research as well as any Ravenclaw could, how committed he was to moving forward with life no matter how difficult it was. The man was an unstoppable force in the best ways possible. 

So yes, obviously he was attracted to Lucius. But that still didn't help him decide what to do. Was Lucius attracted to him? Or maybe he was a kind of Draco replacement for the man. Or perhaps he was just a charity case that Lucius had simply taken on as a way to stay connected to the world that had abandoned him. He honestly didn't know.

These were the thoughts that were rolling around his head as he made his way to the dining room that evening. He still had no idea what to do or say to the man who had given him his life back, himself back. What do you say to someone who's done everything for you when you realise that you want even more? He sat down at the table, keeping his eyes downcast, but he could feel Lucius’ gaze on him and he knew it was only a matter of time before he was made to start talking.

After a few moments Lucius began. “What is the matter, Harry?”

“Oh, nothing,” Harry tried to put him off, even as he knew that Lucius was far too perceptive to buy that.

“Mr. Potter,” he said sharply, making Harry turn wide green eyes on him. “I do believe we know one another better than that at this point. Tell me what is the matter and we shall work it out.” Lucius was, as always, kind but firm. It worked as it always did to break down Harry’s barriers. 

Harry sighed and then spit it out, rather louder than he had intended, “I’m gay!” He shifted sheepishly in his seat after the short outburst before finally meeting Lucius’ eyes again, only to see obvious amusement on his smirking face.

“I had suspected as much,” he said slowly and gently, despite the humor on his face. “I take it you had not?”

“I mean,” Harry began, “I really never gave it any thought at all. My aunt and uncle always said that gay people were freaks. But then they always said that I was a freak too. Guess they were right,” he finished lamely.

All the humor left Lucius face as he said that. “No,” he said simply. “No, Harry Potter, do not even consider that. There is absolutely nothing freakish about you in the negative sense, despite what your relatives may have told you. They were, to put it kindly, wrong. I do not want you to ever think of yourself in their terms, Harry.”

Harry just sat there looking back at him. He didn’t really know what else to say. 

After a beat Lucius continued, “I know that you have not had it easy. You’ve never had it easy, but I will do whatever I can to make this easy for you. What do you need, dear one?” 

His soft tone, the protective look on his face, the words of endearment that he had never used before but felt so right tonight, all of it was too much. His voice broke as he answered honestly, before he could even stop himself, “I just want someone to tell me I’m not as worthless as I know I am.”

Lucius was immediately at Harry’s side, all thoughts of dinner and propriety forgotten. He pulled Harry into a warm embrace, wrapping one cool hand around the back of Harry’s neck underneath his long hair. “Harry, you’re not worthless. You could never be. You are so very precious to me,” he murmured. 

Harry relaxed into his embrace, gripping Lucius back tightly. Right at that moment, those words meant everything. He only hoped that one day he’d believe them.


	7. Hunger for Me

Harry’s breakdown the previous evening had drawn the two men closer than ever before and Lucius honestly couldn’t be happier. He had woken up on the sofa sometime in the middle of the night, still in his clothes, with Harry sleeping soundly against his chest and decided that it really wasn’t worth it to get up. Their clothes were rumpled when they finally did get up the next morning and they were both famished from having skipped dinner, but the breakthrough that Harry had had that night was worth almost anything as far as Lucius was concerned.

“Tonight,” he thought as he urged Harry to shower and get ready for the day, “is the night.”

Tonight he would take Harry to the Wicked Witch and see what he thought of it all. He was really doing so much better at this point; the club would give him something new to think about and would go a long way to showing him that he was no more a freak than anyone else. Even if he decided he didn’t want anything to do with it, or if he decided he’d rather experience those things with someone other than Lucius, it would be worth it just to have seen this incredible young man grow and heal the way that he had done over the past few months. No matter what happened, Lucius was excited to have this experience with Harry. 

They went about their day as usual despite the rather late start they had gotten. They visited Lucius’ favourite bookstore and had scones and coffee for brunch before heading to the cinema to see the first installment of Lord of the Rings. He knew that Harry had recently finished the books and was looking forward to seeing the film adaptation. 

The movie was impressive, even to Lucius, and he made a point of asking to borrow the books from Harry so that he could find out what would happen to the hobbits next. He found the Dumbledore-ish Gandalf a bit disconcerting and he wondered how Harry would handle it, but he didn’t seem bothered. He was likely too busy smirking at Lucius whenever the pale blond Legolas was on the screen to think too much about it. 

Harry chattered about the movie afterwards, extolling its virtues and comparing it to the book for so long that afternoon that Lucius finally told him it would be prudent to go take a nap. “We will be having a late night tonight, so it will be best if you’re well rested.”

Harry gave him a suspicious look before asking “Could this have anything to do with the leather trousers?”

It certainly wasn’t the first time Harry had asked him about them, but he had always put him off. “Possibly,” he replied with a wink, which was far more than he’d ever given the boy before. It was enough, apparently, because Harry headed immediately to his room and didn’t turn up again until Dipsy went to get him for dinner.

Harry was clearly distracted throughout dinner that evening, but he made a valiant effort to act as if everything was perfectly normal. Lucius, being much more practiced at hiding his true thoughts, played along even though he was more giddy inside than was truly befitting a Malfoy. They did eat rather more quickly than usual, but both, to varying degrees of success, played at nonchalance. 

When Lucius had taken his final bite of tiramisu, however, Harry slapped his hands against his thighs nervously. "Ok, what's next then?" he asked.

Lucius reached over slowly and tangled a hand gently in Harry's dark curls, caressing a soft cheek as he did. "Now, Mr. Potter," he murmured, "you are going to go to your room and put on your perfectly fitting leather trousers," the last four words each punctuated by a sharp tug on Harry's hair. "You are going to put them on with nothing underneath. You'll wear your boots and the black silk button-down shirt and you will meet me back here in 20 minutes time." He smoothed Harry's hair back down as well as it could be after he had finished speaking and looked coolly at the boy.

Harry's green eyes were on fire and he leaned in ever so slightly to Lucius' touch. "Yes, sir," he confirmed as though he couldn't help himself. 

He paused then, almost as if he was waiting for permission. Lucius could feel a hungry smile sliding onto his face as he looked back at him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly and simply said "Go now." Harry went. 

He went and Lucius watched him go every step of the way. 

While Harry went to get dressed, so did Lucius. He wanted everything to be perfect tonight. He chose a white silk shirt, a pale twin of the black one Harry would be wearing, and a dark Italian suit. The rich dark fabric fit his lean frame like a glove. On that note, he thought, gloves could be a good touch, so he summoned a pair of buttery soft leather gloves to place in his pocket. He untied his blond hair, leaving it to hang free down his back. He did not wear a tie, deciding instead to leave the top button of his shirt undone. Taking one last look in the mirror, he nodded, satisfied that he looked sexy and in charge. 

The mirror agreed, softly purring, "You look very alluring, Lord Malfoy, even if you are dressed like a Muggle."

He smirked back at it, not even bothering to reply. He grabbed his cane, securing his wand within it. Harry likely wouldn't be carrying his tonight and even in the Muggle world it was prudent to always carry a wand. "Perfect," he thought as he retrieved a small rectangular box from his office and, running long fingers through his hair one final time, went to wait for Harry. Everything would be perfect tonight. 

Lucius sat down expectantly, resisting the urge to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair. He was not what anyone would call a particularly patient man, but he knew that he was asking Harry to take a large step outside of his comfort zone, so he did his best to be accommodating. When Harry did step into the room though, eyes averted and looking unsure of himself, Lucius found that he really had not been prepared.

The leather trousers that had been a bit snug a few months ago were now positively sinful as Harry's body had filled out a bit from regular meals and exercise. His hair had calmed down slightly as it had gotten longer; black curls hung softly to his shoulders. "And what delightful shoulders they are," Lucius thought. They were narrower than his, but still muscular and broad enough on Harry's lean body. Everything about Harry at that moment oozed sex appeal. Lucius was incredibly grateful that he'd had the foresight to grab the little box in his hands.

He stood and stepped close to Harry, just on the edge of invading his personal space. "You're absolutely beautiful," he said. Setting the box on a nearby table, he reached out to unbutton the top two buttons of Harry's shirt. 

Harry gave a humorless laugh at Lucius' words and seemed ready to object, so Lucius placed a finger against his lips to hush him. "I said what I said, Mr. Potter. Do you still think me a liar?" 

Harry shook his head and Lucius continued, "Very good, darling." Harry's green eyes widened at the endearment but he said nothing. "Where we are going this evening is a place that will likely be like nothing you've ever seen before. I want you to keep an open mind and to absorb all that you can. You're free to talk to anyone you'd like, but you needn't talk to anyone if you don't wish to. Stay near me and I will keep you from anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable.

"I also wish you to wear this," he said, picking the box up and placing it in Harry's hands. "It is only for tonight unless we decide otherwise in the future. But this will give you the freedom to defer to me on anything without question if you should want to. No one there would dare to disrespect a collar. They would be unlikely to disrespect you in any way regardless, but this is added insurance for someone so new to it all."

Harry held the bit of leather in his hands, uncertainty plain on his face. It was a deep Gryffindor red, just like his boots, a silver M sat in the center with a tiny serpent coiled around it. Lucius had commissioned it just for this possibility, just for Harry. 

"Where are we going?" he asked in a small voice, still gazing down at the collar in his dark hands. 

The time for blunt honesty was at hand. "We are going to a BDSM club, Harry. It is a place that I spent a decent amount of time at before you stumbled into my life," he gave a deep chuckle. "I have spent a good deal of time learning about this lifestyle and community, both from literature and from the people within it. It has helped me greatly, and I wonder if, now that you are more whole, it might help you too."

"So," Harry began, looking somehow smaller than before, "if I don't like it, you won't want me? Is that why you haven't, you haven't touched me or anything? You only want me if you can play out this fantasy with me or something?"

Lucius held a hand up warningly, giving Harry a stern look. "Did I say that, Mr. Potter?" Harry at least looked a bit sheepish at that question. "Do refrain from working yourself up when you don't have all of the information."

"I have a great deal of regard for you, Harry, and I will continue to provide for you and care for you for as long as you like, no matter what. But you are correct in one thing: this is partly why I haven't touched you in that way. I did not wish to begin any kind of relationship with you and then spring something of this nature on you. You may have felt coerced into participating whether you wanted to or not."

He touched Harry's cheek gently. "I am interested in you, Harry, because I enjoy being with you, not for any other reason. If you see what this is about and want no part of it, some part of it, or every part of it, that is fine. We can move forward from there and figure things out. But this is my way of laying all my cards on the table, as the Muggles say, from the start.

"And to be perfectly honest, dear one, you were only ready to admit you were interested in men yesterday." He raised his eyebrows at Harry and smiled indulgently. 

Harry laid one hand over Lucius' against his cheek and leaned in to the touch, still holding the collar in his other hand. "You're right," he said simply. "I suppose that I've just gotten so used to fighting that I'm always looking for something to snap at. I am sorry for that." He dropped his hand and held the collar up, grinning crookedly. "Could you put this on me then?"

Lucius gladly did so, admiring the sight of the dark red leather against Harry's neck, the sight of his initial on Harry's smooth throat. Then he ran a hand down his arm before gripping his hand and Apparating them both to an alley in London, to a place where their lives and relationship could quite possibly change forever.

Walking into The Wicked Witch for the first time with Harry Potter was much different than his own first time so many months ago. The bouncer simply nodded and let them in without a second glance for one thing. Lucius was rather well known here now, despite not having been by for the last few months. He had talked with most of these people; he'd learned from them, he'd even played with a few of them. The staff, the Dungeon Monitors, and the regulars all recognized him. 

It was also different because it was the first time he had ever brought anyone with him or even given any inclination toward doing so. He saw some of the others eyeing them with thinly-veiled interest and he found himself rather enjoying the fact that other people saw something they liked when they looked at him and Harry together. 

He saw the club with fresh eyes now that he was here with Harry, taking in the low lights, the loud music, and the smoky air as if for the first time. He truly loved this place and hoped that Harry was seeing the same magic here that he did; a different magic than they were used to, to be sure, but just as compelling and beautiful and addictive.

The bar was not terribly crowded as Lucius led his wide-eyed partner to it. He vividly remembered seeing all of this — the leather, the nudity, the dancing, the whips — for the first time, and he didn't blame the boy for being overwhelmed. He ordered his usual martini then turned to Harry.

"What will you have?" he asked, squeezing Harry's hand to get his attention.

Harry startled. "Huh? Oh! Erm… a rum and coke?" he asked, looking to Lucius for permission.

Lucius nodded then told the bartender firmly "He is to have no more than two." The bartender nodded and began mixing their drinks. He trusted that all of the staff here would abide by a dom's wishes when it came to a collared partner.

"What was that?" Harry asked in a low voice.

Lucius looked at him in confusion, noting the spark of lust in his green eyes and wondering if that was for him or just because of the extravagance of their surroundings. "What? I want you to be able to have fun tonight, but I don't want you impaired. It hasn't been long since I pulled a scrappy bruised boy out of a drunken fight, you know."

He waved dismissively and gestured toward the bar. "I know that. I mean the way you talked to her. Like what you say goes. It's like a dad voice or something. I've never heard you sound like that before."

"If you'll recall, Mr. Potter, I was once a rather powerful man," Lucius said with amusement. "I assure you, I have sounded like that many times before. And I'm sure you'll hear that sort of tone frequently in a place such as this."

Harry just studied him with interest as they waited for their drinks. Lucius found himself rather preening under the boy's keen gaze.

Drinks in hand, Lucius began to tell him more about the club and the lifestyle, how he found the place and what he had learned since his discovery. He introduced Harry to some of the people that he knew and guided him around the dungeon so he could get a better idea of what kind of things were possible. To his credit, Harry didn't baulk or cringe away from any of it, even when they saw a nude boy around his age being fisted rather harshly by his latex-clad mistress. 

After they had made their way all around the room and finished their drinks, Lucius led Harry to the dance floor while explaining, "There are as many ways to live this lifestyle as there are people who do it. There's no single right way to do anything as long as it is all being done in a safe, sane, and consensual manner."

Harry nodded, clearly still absorbing the huge amount of information and new ideas that he'd been suddenly immersed in. Lucius remembered well the overwhelming feeling of it all and the excitement. "Wait, I can't dance!" he objected when he realised where he'd been led to. 

"You can with me," Lucius said smoothly, grabbing Harry's hips and pulling his body close. After a moment he seemed to realise that there were no set steps and no requirements for dancing; he draped his arms over Lucius' shoulders, running his fingers through his pale hair. Lucius kept them moving to the beat, his fair face flushing from the heat of the room and the heady feeling of having Harry so close.

They danced for what felt like hours without tiring, attracting some attention from the other patrons, but being largely left alone. Finally, Lucius started to feel overly warm and decided that if he was hot, Harry was certainly hot, clad as he was in tight leather. 

They found a few empty chairs at a table with an average looking man and a woman in pigtails and a girlish purple dress. "Can I have another drink, Daddy?" she asked the man, batting her long eyelashes. 

The man smiled indulgently and said "One more, baby, and that's it." She grinned and headed to the bar with a wink.

"So, Mr. Potter," Lucius began, drawing Harry's attention to him. "What do you think?"

Harry looked away, gazing after the girl for a moment more before focusing on him again. "I like it," he said as if he'd never been more certain of anything in his life. "I want it." 

He hadn't exactly said 'I want it with you' but the heated look in his green eyes as he smiled at Lucius left no question. He returned that intense gaze and cupped the back of Harry's head, tangling his fingers in sweaty dark curls. 

Pulling Harry to him, he captured his lips in a searing kiss. He slid his tongue into Harry's mouth, tasting him, claiming him. Harry kissed him back hungrily until Lucius reluctantly pulled away, far sooner than he'd have liked. His voice was husky with desire as he pressed his forehead to Harry's and said: "We'll continue this at home."


	8. I Will Be Your Father Figure

Harry's mind was whirling. He had seen so much that he had never even dreamed of before and he fucking loved it. He wanted every bit of it: the pain, the submission, the pleasure. He wanted to give that to Lucius and he wanted Lucius to take it and take care of him, to make it so that he didn't have to think for a while. He wanted it all and he wanted it with Lucius Malfoy.

He tried to imagine what his friends would think, what Ginny would think, if they knew how depraved and damaged he was. "No," he mentally corrected himself, "not damaged." Lucius' words rang in his mind: freak is a relative term. So what if the things he wanted were different, if his needs and desires were different? There was no reason that something different couldn't be better for him.

And really, his friends hadn't been there with him, coaxing him to eat, to sleep, to talk. His friends hadn't helped him find balance and healing. It had been Lucius this whole time. Why shouldn't he share something special with the man, something almost sacred? Who had the right to draw the line between normal and freak, between virtue and depravity? 

Whose business was it if he found his center in a dimly lit sex club with an ex-Death Eater's mouth on his, with cool hands tangled in his hair? With the gentle weight of a leather collar on his throat and the tightness of leather around his very aroused cock. He was proud to walk beside this man, his man, knowing that his erection was plainly visible to anyone who chose to look, knowing that they all knew to whom he belonged by the collar around his neck. Even if his entire Hogwarts class had been standing by the bar just then watching him, he knew that his pride wouldn't diminish a bit; not as long as that cool pale hand kept gripping his firmly. 

He walked back to the bar with Lucius where the man paid their tab. They went back into the alley, into the brisk early spring air. Then Lucius was pulling him close, wrapping a strong arm around his waist and Apparating them back to the Manor, back home.

It hadn't escaped Harry's thoughts that Lucius had called the Manor home. Of course it was his home, but Harry got the impression that Lucius meant it was their home. It was true that he hadn't been to Grimmauld Place in months, but he hadn't realised until just that moment that the Manor was indeed his home, too; it was his home because that's where Lucius was.

Lucius Apparated them directly to his bedroom, a room Harry had not been inside of before. It was neatly and tastefully decorated in shades of blue, the walls almost icy, the duvet a deep navy. Harry didn't have much of a chance to look around, though, because as soon as they landed, Lucius' mouth was back on his.

Kissing someone had never felt like this before for Harry. He had never known this single-minded passion, this feeling that he'd die if his mouth wasn't on another person's, this feeling that he wanted to die just like this so that he could be trapped in one perfect moment forever. Lucius' blond hair was soft and fine beneath his hands; his arms were tight around his waist, his fingers digging gloriously into Harry's leather-covered arse. 

Just when Harry thought that nothing could possibly be better than this, Lucius' mouth pulled away from his. He whimpered at the loss until he felt that wicked mouth pressed against his neck, sucking a bruise on a spot just above the leather collar. Lucius pressed him back until he fell onto the bed then immediately climbed on top of him, shifting him back until his head hit the pillow. The only things that existed at that moment were Lucius' pale hair spilling across his face, Lucius' lips kissing his mouth, his throat, his chest, and Lucius' amazing hands confidently stripping the clothes from his body. The feel of Lucius, the scent of him, was everywhere and everything.

Gone was the black silk shirt and a hot mouth was on his nipple sucking almost painfully, while long fingers pinched the other. Gone were the leather trousers — where were his boots? Ah, magic, Harry thought as he felt the tingle of a freshening charm on his body — and that incredible mouth, those perfect teeth nibbled down his stomach. His cock lay hard and heavy against his body and he moaned, arching up, desperate for something, desperate for more, when Lucius pulled away from him completely.

Harry looked up and caught the wicked grin on Lucius' sharp face, the hungry glint in his grey eyes. Being completely naked while Lucius was still fully clothed in that impeccable dark suit, only a hint of pale flesh visible at his throat, should have made him uncomfortable. He should have been nervous. But all he felt was a deep need — a hunger — to be taken, to be owned, to be ruined.

"Mr. Potter," he said in a smooth voice. Didn't anything ruffle him? "You look breathtaking in my bed. This is where you belong."

"Yes," Harry was so needy. He didn't care how desperate he sounded. "Yes. Please!"

"Well, since you asked so nicely, my beautiful boy," he said. He laid his wand down by Harry's hip and crawled across the bed, spreading Harry's legs and settling between them. No one had any right to look so graceful and refined as Lucius did while crawling across a bed, Harry thought. He wrapped one lovely hand around the base of Harry's cock and said with a smirk, "Do try not to come until I tell you to." And then his mouth was wrapped around Harry's cock, his tongue teasing the foreskin as he sucked. Harry had never felt anything so incredible in his life. He was grateful for Lucius' fingers wrapped tightly around his cock, reminding him not to let go, reminding him not to come down that perfect pale throat.

Lucius pulled back slightly, dipping his tongue into Harry's slit, tasting the precum that was gathering there. He reached over and touched his wand briefly then raised his hand to show Harry that his long fingers were shiny with conjured lubricant. Harry wanted to throw his head back and moan, but he somehow restrained himself; he didn't want to miss a second of this. 

Lucius smirked around Harry's cock and Harry marveled that the man could manage to make even that look elegant somehow. He resumed sucking Harry's cock then, taking the full length into his throat and humming around it. He felt a slick finger rubbing his arsehole softly and he suddenly got the feeling that he'd die if he didn't get to feel that finger inside him. It hardly registered with him that he was babbling and begging but apparently he made his point clear enough because, without warning, that finger slid all the way in. 

It burned! Merlin, it burned, but the pain was so sweet and Lucius' mouth was so hot on his cock; nothing else mattered. "How could anything on this earth be more important than this?" Harry wondered, unsure if he was speaking aloud or not but he really didn't care one way or the other because Lucius Malfoy was sucking his cock and fingering his arse and all was right with the world. That finger twisted and probed relentlessly and it felt so delicious until it apparently located what it had been seeking all along and Harry's vision went white. Every time that he thought he couldn't feel any more lost to sensation than he already was, Lucius managed to make it all even more intense. 

He didn't come. He didn't come because the hand that was still wrapped tightly around the base of his cock squeezed warningly. He panted with need and frustration and desire as Lucius slowly pulled away from his cock and gently removed his finger from Harry's arse. He rubbed his hands soothingly over Harry's hips and murmured "Good boy… you're so good for me, darling." 

Harry wasn't sure exactly why those words spoke to him so sweetly but he loved it. He would do anything he could to hear them spoken again and again; he wanted nothing more than to be good for Lucius, to keep on hearing those sweet words falling from his perfect lips. Lucius touched his wand again and then his own clothes were gone.

Harry had seen lovely things in his life. He had seen beautiful people. But he didn't think he'd ever seen anything quite so lovely as Lucius Malfoy's strong pale body over his, the silvery blond curtain of his hair hanging over one perfect shoulder. Lucius lay down over Harry, his forehead resting against Harry's, their bare chests pressed together, their hard cocks flush against one another. He kissed Harry deeply as he reached down and wrapped those long fingers around both of their cocks. Harry could taste his own precum on Lucius' lips and he knew that nothing could be better than belonging to Lucius Malfoy. 

He pulled back slightly and whispered against Harry's lips "Come for me, darling" and Harry came. He came harder than he thought he'd ever come in his life. He came sobbing. "So good, so perfect," Lucius murmured as he continued to thrust against Harry's softening cock for just a moment and then he was coming too. Their releases mingled together across both of their chests as Lucius let go of their cocks and pressed his body more firmly to Harry's. He kissed him softly and then rolled to his back so that they lay side by side, still pressed against one another.

Lucius trailed two slim fingers through the stickiness on Harry's chest and slipped one into his mouth, humming as if he savoured the taste of them together. He then put the other between Harry's parted lips. Harry sucked at it greedily; it was salty yet sweet. It was them, Harry and Lucius, and it was good.

Finally Lucius grabbed for his wand again and cast a cleaning charm at both of them before he tossed the wand onto the bedside table and lay back down next to Harry. He arranged Harry's boneless body until his head rested on Lucius' shoulder and his hand was pressed to Lucius' chest. One arm was wrapped around Harry as if he was something precious and he laid his other hand over Harry's, joining them together through the solid beat of his heart.

He brushed soft kisses over Harry's forehead and over his black curls. "What do you want now, Harry?" he asked.

Harry wanted to sleep, right here against Lucius, the gold of his skin firmly pressed to the silver of Lucius'. But he knew that's not what he was being asked about. "I want you," he said simply. 

"You have me," the man replied. Harry could hear the smile on his face in his voice.

"I want you to be my Daddy," Harry whispered softly, a bit nervous that he was taking it too far.

Lucius' breath hitched sharply and his arm squeezed Harry's shoulders almost posessively. "I would like nothing more, darling boy," he said with an intensity that delighted Harry. Harry grinned. Different but better, indeed.


	9. Whatever You Ask For

Something was tickling his nose. Lucius opened his eyes to cool morning light streaming in through the curtains. He reached up to brush whatever it was away from his face when he realised precisely what was tickling his nose and decided it wouldn't hurt to just leave it for a while. It had been a long time since he had had anyone to spoil and he was grateful to have someone as incredible as Harry right now.

The scent of Harry's hair, the weight of the boy against his chest, the feel of him in his arms was so precious. He wondered if Harry knew just how enamored Lucius was, just how tightly Harry had him wrapped around his finger. He doubted it. Harry never seemed to be able to recognize the good in himself or the positive feelings that others had for him. "That's alright," Lucius thought. "It simply means I get to do as much as possible to show him how incredible he truly is."

He pulled the inky blue duvet up over Harry's bare shoulders and pulled him in a bit closer, letting his eyes drift closed. "Who would have thought that Lucius Malfoy would ever be snuggling with the Chosen One?" he thought, softly chuckling as he fell back asleep.

When he woke again it was to a light touch on his arm. Glancing down, he saw that Harry was awake. He had turned over at some point, his head still resting on Lucius' shoulder, and was now lightly tracing the snake and skull on his forearm with calloused brown fingers.

"Does it bother you?" Lucius asked softly, causing Harry to startle. He didn't move his hand though. 

"No. Not really. We've all got scars," Harry answered. "We're different now."

"True," Lucius said, closing his eyes and thanking the gods for the amazing man he held in his arms.

They lay there quietly for a moment until Harry spoke again. "It's funny. This," he touched the Dark Mark again, "it's the symbol of everything I fought so hard against. Like, everything that I hated, everything that hurt me, comes down to this. But if you didn't have it," he said, twisting his body around to face Lucius again, "I wouldn't be here loving you."

Lucius rolled to his side to face Harry. Cupping his cheek in his hand he said, "I'm so sorry for everything that you've been through, Harry. More than anything, I'm sorry for all that I did to you and to those you care about." He kissed Harry's soft lips chastely. "It's unforgivable. Believe me, I know. But I do regret it all. Well, all except for the part where you love me. I certainly don't deserve that. And I do love you too."

Harry smiled showing off a perfect row of white teeth. "I forgive you, you know. You've done more for me than anyone. How could I do anything but love you?" He got a mischievous gleam in his bright eyes then. Running a finger down Lucius' nose he said, "Daddy?"

Lucius felt his cock begin to stir just from that single word falling from Harry's lips. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were both naked in his bed and that his cock was pressed against Harry's thigh. "Yes, darling boy?" he asked. His voice sounded husky. "Merlin, I'm fucked," he thought, "if Harry already knows just what to say to me to get whatever he desires."

"Do you want…" he tightened his mouth and glanced away, hesitating. Lucius kissed him softly in encouragement. "Do you want to fuck me?" he whispered. 

A kind of innocence filled his wide green eyes in spite of, or maybe because of, the fact that they were twined together as they were. Lucius thought that he had perhaps never wanted anything as much as he wanted what Harry was so freely offering, but he also felt a surge of protectiveness for his boy. His Harry who was so brave and kind and noble, his Harry who had been through so many impossible situations and still remained so strong. 

"You do realise, darling, that there are many ways we can enjoy one another without that?" Lucius finally asked softly, grey eyes meeting green in a kind of intensity that Lucius had been unsure he'd ever feel again after everything.

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, you showed me last night."

"What I showed you last night was but a fraction of what we can do, Harry," Lucius said, raising one eyebrow. 

To Lucius' surprise - would he ever figure Harry out? - Harry looked a bit put out at that. "Oh, it's ok. If you don't want to…"

Grasping Harry's chin, Lucius cut him off. "There you go jumping to conclusions again. You have no idea how much I want to pound you into the mattress right now, Mr. Potter," he said in a husky low voice. Harry sucked in a sharp breath, his green eyes wild. "However, I do not wish to hurt you."

"Hurt me," Harry murmured against Lucius' lips. "I want you to."

With a growl, Lucius sat up abruptly, the dark duvet pooling at his waist. How much temptation could one man take before he gave in to the call of the void. "This much," he thought as he allowed himself to fall into the abyss.

"On your hands and knees, darling," he snapped, the word darling somehow feeling obscene on his lips. 

Harry's breath hitched as he jumped to obey. Lucius eyed him for a moment before kneeling behind him, running pale hands down the boy's ribs and admiring the soft flesh of his arse. He felt Harry shudder in excitement as he placed a hand on each of Harry's hips and lowered his face. Driven almost purely by instinct, he bit down firmly on one golden arse cheek, digging sharp teeth in until he had left his mark before moving his face inward, sliding his open mouth across Harry's smooth cheek until he reached the rim of his puckered hole.

The tip of his tongue ran teasing circles around that tight opening, relaxing the muscle before driving in a bit. He held Harry firmly in place as he moaned and tried to buck back against his face. If he hadn't been otherwise occupied, he'd have been smirking; Harry was so deliciously receptive. He drew back slightly and pressed his lips to the winking hole as if that puckered opening was a pair of lips waiting to be kissed. 

Lowering his body to the bed, he settled into the feast that was Harry Potter's gorgeous arse. He sucked and licked, fucking Harry with his tongue until the boy was wildly moaning with need and his own cock lay throbbing and weeping against the duvet. 

Finally, when Harry was as wet and loose as he could be without stretching or lubricant, Lucius got to his knees behind the boy. He laid a hand on the small of Harry's back and pressed his cock against his slick hole. "You want me to hurt you, darling?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Yes, Daddy! Please!" Harry begged so prettily. Lucius rather regretted what he was about to do but he wanted Harry to listen to him in the future. If he wanted a Daddy, he needed to learn to take direction instead of rushing in full speed ahead.

Holding Harry in place with one hand, he used the other to guide his hard cock slowly into Harry's almost impossibly tight entrance. To his credit, Harry didn't complain and he didn't ask for mercy, but by the time Lucius had the head of his cock fully inside Harry, he was whimpering loudly, probably not even aware of the sound coming from his throat. Lucius could picture those green eyes wide with the unexpected pressure of it all and he paused to allow Harry to experience it for a moment before pulling out.

He sat back on his heels and listened to Harry's heavy breathing, ran a gentle finger over his reddened bum, then pulled the boy to him, leaning his back against his chest. Cradling him against his chest, he softly kissed Harry's dark hair. "You didn't want to listen to me, Harry," he softly admonished.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "I wanted to do that with you. I'd have been ok if you hadn't stopped." The tremor in his voice said otherwise, though. 

He caressed Harry's chest, his stomach, then cupped a hand around his soft balls, skipping over his cock entirely. "I want that too, darling, but not until you're ready for it. If it's pain you want, I can do many things that we'd both enjoy, but not like this. This is one thing that shouldn't hurt, love. I don't desire to hear you whimper in pain while I'm inside you. If I am to be your Daddy, you need to listen to me," he finished.

Harry nodded feebly and Lucius took that as acceptance. "Now then," he said, delivering a sharp slap to Harry's inner thigh, just beside his balls, "on your knees on the floor if you please."

Harry yelped but scrambled to obey. Taking a moment to admire the sight of this gorgeous little sub waiting on the floor looking nervous but still eager, Lucius languidly rose from the bed. He smirked at the hungry look on Harry's face as he stretched showing off his lean strong body, all pale skin but for the dark tattoo on his arm. He stepped over to Harry, feeling very much like a snake approaching its prey. 

"Open up, Mr. Potter," he said, pressing his hard pink cock to Harry's soft lips. Harry opened his mouth, his green eyes meeting Lucius' with a fevered heat. He rubbed the weeping head against Harry's tongue and murmured "No teeth, love. I'll do the rest." Harry obediently closed his lips as Lucius fisted his hair and began thrusting slowly into the hot chasm of Harry's mouth, careful not to press too deep. 

As he increased the speed at which he thrust, he noted that Harry's own cock was proudly erect again, standing up beautifully against his bare skin. As aroused as he was from rimming and teasing Harry, as amazing as Harry's warm mouth felt, he knew that he wouldn't last long. When he felt his balls tighten, he pulled out of that sweet mouth and shot his climax onto Harry's lips, his tongue, his cheeks. "Good boy," he affirmed with a soft smile, sinking to his knees. 

Pale fingers trailed through the mess on Harry's face. He scooped it off of dark flushed cheeks and fed it to the boy as he reached out with his other hand and gripped Harry's cock. He pumped his hand a few times and then said: "Come for me, darling."

Harry's face tightened and his green eyes closed as he obeyed. "So good for me," Lucius murmured as he caught some of Harry's come in his palm. He smeared his sticky wet hand across Harry's face and over his parted lips before pulling him close and kissing him deeply, savoring the taste of them mingled together on his mouth. Pulling Harry into his lap, he then tucked his head beneath his chin, not bothered by the stickiness spreading onto his chest. 

Now that it was over he was a bit worried that he'd gone too far. He rubbed Harry's back and murmured sweet praise into his ears as he held him there on the plush carpet. They'd gone to the club, of course, so Harry should have had some idea of what to expect from him, he thought. But still this had been a rather intense encounter for someone so virginal as Harry was, far different from last night's. After a few moments, Harry began to stir, tilting his head and pressing soft kisses to Lucius' collarbone. 

"You're really filthy, you know," he said matter-of-factly. 

Chuckling, Lucius pressed his face to Harry's hair. "Yes," he said. There was no point in denying it. "Is it too much for you?"

"It's brilliant," Harry replied. "I just wouldn't have thought it of you. You're so posh and proper."

Lucius hummed in agreement. "Now you know why I wanted you to come to the club with me."

Harry twisted in his lap and wrapped his arms around Lucius. "I'm really glad you did. Thanks for, you know, helping me through everything and taking care of me like you do. I'll do my best to listen and trust you more," he said, snuggling in as close as he could before whispering, "Daddy." His contented sigh pleased Lucius greatly. 

"Quite," he said dryly, continuing to rub Harry's bare back. "And rest assured that I'll be there to punish you whenever you don't for as long as you wish it." He smiled when he felt Harry shudder pleasantly at his words. "Now, let us go get cleaned up for the day. We can have Dipsy move your things to my room if you'd like."

Harry pulled back and grinned so brightly that it was easy for Lucius to see why so many had followed this charming boy. "I'd love that!" he said happily as he stood and let himself be led to the bathroom.

Their morning started out rather typically after that. They had a late breakfast while Lucius avoided Dipsy's knowing looks in his direction. "I am a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake," he thought, annoyed with himself. "I should not be embarrassed that the house-elf knows I've taken a lover."

After breakfast, Lucius went to his office to do some paperwork while Harry did whatever it was that Harry did. Despite no longer being an active part of the wizarding world, Lucius did still have investments to manage and books to balance and he did still receive requests to donate to various wizarding charities. He wondered idly if Harry received these kinds of requests as well and where his mail was even going as he opened the window for a rather excitable owl that had begun pecking at it.

The little owl fluttered maddeningly about Lucius' head without allowing him the chance to take possession of the correspondence it held. After a few moments of grappling with it, he managed to catch a glimpse of the envelope and saw that it was not even addressed to him, but to Harry.

"Dipsy!" he called frantically, blond hair flying wildly about his head as the owl circled him excitedly. "Please tell Mr. Potter to come to me immediately," he told her, more frazzled than he thought he'd ever been in his own office, as soon the little elf appeared. He flailed around trying to at least slow the little owl's manic movements, but to no avail.

By the time Harry arrived, the owl had settled somewhat, although it had chosen to do so in Lucius' hair. It still flapped its tiny wings madly any time he reached for it, so he was left sitting there, glowering darkly, pale strands of hair falling in his grey eyes, with a miniature owl perched atop his regal head. When Harry saw him his green eyes went wide for a moment before he doubled over in laughter.

When he had mostly recovered, he straightened and called softly between chuckles, "Pigwidgeon!" The owl finally vacated Lucius' head and flew to him, resting calmly on his outstretched hand and holding its little leg out for him to retrieve his letter.

Lucius watched the scene play out incredulously. "That bloody menace!" he muttered to no one in particular as Harry handled the bird, coolly placing it on his shoulder as he unfolded the parchment that had been attached. Smoothing his frazzled hair back into place, he watched as Harry read. He watched Harry's face fall and he watched as his vert eyes grew watery.

When Harry finally looked up at him, his face unreadable, he said in a thick voice "Ron's invited me to his and Hermione's engagement party. It's tomorrow."

And then Lucius understood. Harry had had no contact with his friends in months, as far as he knew. He wondered if the boy had even known of their engagement. If so, he'd never mentioned it. He also wondered why they'd waited so long to invite him, but upon consideration, he thought perhaps they had done so and Harry had never even seen their previous missives. This was the first letter he'd gotten from anyone since coming to the Manor.

"How do you feel about it, Harry?" he asked, concerned that this could set Harry back. He had only just begun to be happy again. They really hadn't broached the topic of his friends much. 

Harry ran a hand through his dark curls. "Well, I mean," he stumbled over his words as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. "They're my best mates so I have to be there for them," he finally said lamely.

"I find," Lucius began slowly, "that I do not give a damn about them beyond the fact that you care about them. I do not want to know what you feel obligated to on their behalf. I only wish to know how you feel." Lucius knew that he could be a cold bastard and in this case he probably was. He was honest though; the youngest Weasley boy and his Muggle-born paramour were the least of his concerns. Harry, on the other hand, was at the top of his list.

Harry came close to where Lucius sat and simply fell to his knees, dropping his head to Lucius' lap. He carded his fingers through Harry's hair and watched as Harry ran a finger over the collar on his neck. "I'm afraid," Harry murmured. "I've been a mess for ages. I'm afraid of letting them down again and I'm afraid they won't understand that I'm getting better or why I'm getting better. I'm afraid they'll think badly of me. Or of you."

Lucius smiled softly and gently pulled Harry's head up so that he could look into his eyes as he spoke. "You needn't worry about me, darling. They do think badly of me and they should. I've done nothing to make them think otherwise and it's likely that nothing I could do would make them think otherwise. But if they care for you — and I think they do — they will accept you for who you are now, whether or not you are different than they expect." 

"So you think I should go?"

"I very much do, love," he answered, reaching to unclasp the collar. If Harry was this frightened of how his friends would react to everything, he certainly wouldn't want to flaunt that, Lucius thought. 

Quick fingers shot out to grab his, however. "Please don't, Daddy," Harry whimpered. "You got it for me, didn't you? 

Taken aback, Lucius froze. "Of course I did, darling. I simply thought you wouldn't want your friends to know," he said. He had assumed Harry was ashamed if he was being honest. 

Fire shone in Harry's eyes as he said "Of course I want them to know. If they're going to accept me, then they need to accept all of me." He beamed up at Lucius then lay his cheek down on Lucius' knee. "So you'll come with me, right, Daddy?"

Lucius' face fell at that thought. Of course, he'd wanted Harry to face his fears and his friends, but was he really prepared to return to the wizarding world, even for a short while? And amongst Weasleys no less?? In the end he said the only thing he could possibly say to his manipulative little brat, though he had every intention of making him pay for it later. "Of course, darling. I'll be right there with you," he promised.


	10. Remember the Ones

Harry woke the next morning with a smile on his face and a pleasantly sore arse. True, he had to face his adopted family today and he sort of didn't want to but Lucius would have to face them too and that should prove entertaining. At the very least it would give them an easy out for leaving early if the Weasleys found Lucius' presence intolerable. 

Lucius had not been terribly excited about Harry's little manipulation, but Harry found that he really wasn't bothered about it. A Slytherin like Lucius should have been expecting potential plots. Just because Harry had been a Gryffindor didn't mean he couldn't scheme with the best of them. Dumbledore had been a Gryffindor too, after all.

His devious plan to get Lucius to come with him to Ron and Hermione's party had resulted in Lucius tying him to the bed frame and flogging his arse rather soundly. He knew he had been flogged because Lucius seemed to take special glee in describing everything he'd done in excruciating detail, from the rubber cock ring he placed on Harry to prevent him from coming, to the soft leather flogger he'd chosen to whip him with. 

All in all, Harry had been exceedingly happy with the outcome. He had gotten everything he wanted. Lucius was going to the party with him. He had sore pink arse cheeks. And he had gotten to come in his Daddy's cool hands. True, Lucius had come twice first; once from rutting against Harry's sore bum after the flogging and once down Harry's throat while gripping his hair tightly. But that certainly hadn't been a burden. 

He snuggled closer to Lucius, all too happy to remember the pleasantness of his "punishment" rather than to think about what he'd have to face today. His cock twitched a bit as he pressed his arse against the coarse hairs on Lucius' groin, his soft cock resting perfectly between Harry's cheeks. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in the memory of the wicked look in those grey eyes as he pressed his hand to Harry's mouth, pressing him to lap his own emissions from Lucius' palm. 

"You really like that, don't you?" Harry had asked, smirking. "Me eating come?"

"Au contraire, darling," Lucius had replied, licking his fingers obscenely. "I really like us both doing it." He had kissed Harry deeply but gently then as he released his arms from their bindings and softly massaged them. He had kissed Harry so softly and caressed every inch of his body, ensuring that he was well and felt safe even after the beautiful torture he'd been put through. 

"He takes such good care of me," Harry thought. He honestly didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky. He had found someone completely by chance who was firm and loving and seemed to truly enjoy putting up with Harry's moods and assumptions, who seemed to revel in preventing him from doing the stupid shit he often found himself doing without even giving it a thought. Lucius had given him everything he could ever want or need and he expected nothing in return. Harry wanted to give him everything though.

That was why he delighted in submitting to the man and why he wanted him to come with him today. Lucius had left the wizarding world without question, but Harry knew he missed wearing robes and dining with friends. He knew he missed his son. He threw thousands of galleons every month to war relief efforts and other wizarding charities. There was no way the man was perfectly happy being cut off so completely. If he could make nice with the Weasley family, all war heroes, it would go a long way toward getting Lucius the acceptance he so deserved within their world. Of course, having Harry by his side wouldn't hurt, but everyone knew that Harry had gone mad since the war. They certainly wouldn't take his word for it.

With that thought firmly in place, Harry thought it was probably time to wake his sweet Daddy up. Who knew what sort of things he'd want them to accomplish in preparation for the party at 2? Harry squirmed away from Lucius as gently as he could then turned toward the man and slid down beneath the duvet. 

In the dim light beneath their blue bedding, he could just make out the outline of Lucius' soft cock. His mouth watered as he inhaled the scent of Lucius' skin and the fancy soap he used underlying the musky scent of his groin. He leaned forward and tentatively ran his tongue along the length of that pretty pink cock, tasting sweat and the sweetness of the man's skin. He moved downward and gently took Lucius' bollocks into his mouth one at a time, gently sucking them and rolling his tongue around them before moving his mouth back to his now firmer cock.

He licked a stripe up it, pausing at the tip to dip his tongue in the sweet-tasting slit, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking in earnest. It didn't take long for Lucius to wake up. Harry sighed happily around the hard cock in his mouth as strong fingers buried themselves in his hair. Lucius began thrusting his hips then, truly fucking Harry's mouth and Harry felt his own cock begin throbbing with arousal. When Lucius came with a groan, Harry caught the salty fluid in his mouth and slid back up Lucius' firm body. 

When Lucius smiled at him and said "Good boy," it was all Harry could do not to explode all over him. Instead he pressed his lips against his Daddy's and, pressing his tongue into that perfect aristocratic mouth, he let the come spill out from between his lips. Lucius moaned when he realised what Harry had done and placed his hands on Harry's face, holding him firmly in place as they kissed deeply. He sucked his salty come off of Harry's tongue only to press it back into Harry's mouth until it was gone.

"Very good boy," Lucius said, smiling softly at Harry. Harry's hard cock was still throbbing, but he didn't dare rut against Lucius. He trusted his daddy to take care of him, even if that meant he had to wait for a better prize later. Just hearing sweet words of praise falling from his lips was enough to make Harry feel rather optimistic about the crazy day they had ahead of them.

As it turned out, though, it was Harry's patience that earned him the reward. Strong arms flipped him onto his back and then Lucius was hovering over him, that wicked gleam back in his eyes, his blond hair hanging over one shoulder. "You're such a good boy for me darling. I think you deserve a reward for that. Do you want a reward?"

"Yes, Daddy," Harry moaned, loving the hungry look Lucius was giving him. "Please," he begged. 

"You're going to come for me, darling," he said as he slowly slid down Harry's body, carefully avoiding even brushing against his cock. "You're going to come for me, but I'm not going to touch this pretty cock of yours. I'm just going to be here watching it spurt all over you."

When he had nestled himself between Harry's spread legs, he summoned a pot of lube which shot across the room at his word. Catching it in deft hands, he opened it and liberally coated two long fingers. Harry couldn't tear his eyes away. He felt Lucius press a slick finger against his entrance and then he felt that delicious burn. Not the unbearable burn he'd felt the day before, but the sweet one from his Daddy's lovely finger sliding inside him. 

That perfect finger pumped in and out and Harry thought he was in Heaven. He wanted badly to grab his cock, to relieve that throbbing, but he wanted to feel his Daddy's hands more so he refrained. After a while, Lucius said "I'm going to start stretching you, darling. Just relax." 

And then a second finger joined the first. It burned a bit more, but still that sweet burn that dissipated within moments. Harry's eyes closed on their own as he lost himself to the sensation of two perfect pale fingers driving into him, scissoring apart to stretch him more, curling to brush that one incredible spot that made him want to die of pleasure. After a few more driving thrusts, though, they did more than brush it. Lucius' fingers were tapping it and then pressing it hard and Harry could hardly think but he heard his Daddy say "Come for me, darling," and he did. He came so hard he could feel it in his bones but still those fingers didn't retreat; they pressed on drawing every drop of fluid they could from his tight balls.

When Lucius finally pulled his fingers from his arse, Harry whined, not sure if it was all too much or if he still craved more. He had never come like that, without even being touched, before. In response, Lucius pressed his mouth against Harry's hole, kissing, sucking, pressing his tongue inside the loosened opening before sliding up Harry's body, lapping at the cooling come on his belly, and kissing him softly. 

Harry felt boneless. He wondered idly how Lucius would take it if he ever called him Lockhart as the man lay down beside him and maneuvered him so that his head rested on his chest. "I'd better not try it while we're naked in bed," he thought, toying lightly with the pale blond curls on Lucius' chest. In spite of his certainty that all hell was going to break loose at approximately 2:01 that afternoon, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such tranquility. 

"We should get up, love," Lucius said after a few peaceful moments. Harry loved the feel of his smooth voice vibrating in his chest. "We have much to do today before heading to the party." Harry hadn't imagined that anyone could make a party sound like a prison sentence, but Lucius certainly managed it. He said the word like it was something filthy which, coming from a man who had just had his mouth on Harry's arsehole, was pretty impressive. 

Harry didn't especially want to get up, but he knew better than to protest. As fun as the spanking he'd gotten last night had been, he wasn't sure he was ready for a repeat of it quite so soon. He rolled out of bed, grabbed a shower, and got dressed only to find Lucius standing by the closet in his underclothes. 

"What does one wear to a Weasley party?" he asked softly. 

"Erm, well," Harry began, somewhat taken aback at his cool, confident lover seeming so rattled. "You could wear casual robes or, wait! Do you have any jeans?" he asked. Lucius Malfoy in denims would make a very clear statement right away of how different the man was.

"I do not," he replied with a sneer, reminding Harry oddly of Professor Snape. Maybe Snape had learned it from him. They must have been friends at some point. 

"We can go shopping then!" Harry said happily. He hated shopping for himself, but the idea of seeing Lucius try on clothes was an appealing one.

"Very well," Lucius said, still clearly not pleased, but a bit happier than he had been. Harry knew he loved to shop so it was probably a good way for them to spend their morning. It would accomplish something and take their minds off the party they were both so nervous about. 

Shit, the party! Harry thought. "Do people give gifts at an engagement party?" he asked. Never having been to one, he honestly had no idea of the protocol. 

"Of course." Lucius was pulling a pair of dark coloured trousers over his long legs. "We can acquire something while we're out," he said dismissively. "I'd have had Dipsy pick something up, but we may as well do it ourselves since we'll be out anyway. I assume your friends appreciate Muggle things as well as wizarding ones?"

Harry knew that they would and told Lucius so. In fact, that would be yet another bit of proof that Lucius was not the man they thought he was.

The shopping trip had done its job, effectively distracting them from their anxiety over the party. Lucius looked as incredible in his new dark denims and navy blue corded jumper as he looked in everything else and Harry was a bit worried about his ability to keep his hands to himself during the party. He didn't reckon that it would go over particularly well with the Weasleys if he went around grabbing Lucius' arse at The Burrow.

They had also finally gotten a gift for his friends that he thought they'd really enjoy. He had struggled to find something perfect for the two people who had done so much for him during the war and throughout his time at Hogwarts until Lucius suggested that books might be appropriate. Harry then found a nice leather-bound set of Lord of the Rings books — something he knew Hermione would appreciate and he thought even Ron could enjoy — and purchased a pair of tickets for them to go see the movie together. He had loved seeing it with Lucius so much and thought his friends would enjoy a date night at the cinema as well.

Dipsy had wrapped the gift neatly for them while they ate a late lunch and then, somehow much sooner than Harry expected, the time to leave arrived. He ran his hand over the collar that was prominently displayed on his neck, his fingers lingering affectionately on Lucius' initials at his throat. He prayed that his friends — his chosen family, he corrected — would be understanding and kind. He'd been through so much and he was doing so much better now. They had to see that, right? 

"Can you apparate us there or shall we use the floo?" Lucius cut into his thoughts. 

"Hm?" Harry asked before his brain caught up to his mouth. "Oh, I can apparate!" he said. The last thing he wanted was to spring from the fireplace into the Weasley's kitchen with Lucius bloody Malfoy in tow. No, it would be best for them if they could simply walk up to the front door and knock.

Taking a deep breath, Harry interlaced his fingers with Lucius'. He glanced up at the man. His face was set in cool disinterest; a look Harry knew to be a mask concealing his true anxiety. With love and gratefulness for his beautiful strong Daddy filling him, Harry clutched his wand in his other hand and thought of the Weasley's home. A loud crack sounded and then the two stood in a field looking toward the haphazard yet beloved shape of the Burrow.

Lucius looked decidedly uncomfortable as he gazed at the crooked home of the Weasley's, but he said nothing, just continued to squeeze Harry's hand tightly. Drawing on all the courage he possessed, Harry led them to the front door. Lucius stood back, clutching their gift a bit behind Harry, as Harry knocked firmly on the door. 

He was almost immediately greeted by Ron's smiling face. "Harry, mate, you made it! Blimey, it's good to see you. You look gre…" he trailed off as he noticed Lucius standing there. "Bloody hell, what the fuck is he doing here?!" he demanded, his face going red.

"Erm," Harry began, "I told you I'd be bringing a date when I replied to you yesterday. Lucius is my date." He shrugged lamely. It's not like he'd expected this to play out any differently, but he still wasn't really sure how to handle it. 

Lucius stepped out from behind Harry then, his manners overriding any discomfort he was feeling, and held his hand out to Ron. "Mr. Weasley," he said smoothly, "it's a pleasure to be here. I know that Harry was glad to receive your letter. Congratulations on your recent engagement." 

There was something to be said for the mask of a Slytherin, Harry thought. How Lucius managed to stand there looking and sounding so pleasant and charming when Harry knew for a fact that he was all nerves and discomfort inside, Harry had no idea, but it was admirable. Ron, however, just stood there glaring at Lucius' outstretched hand.

"So," Ron said finally, "you're just going to stand there like you're not a goddamn Death Eater." He leaned against the door jamb, making it clear that he had no intention of letting Lucius in any time soon. 

Licking his lips — the first tiny crack in his confident mask — Lucius dropped his hand. "You are correct, Mr. Weasley, I was a Death Eater," he admitted softly. "I assure you that I am not that man any longer. I have no right to be here, I know that," he said. "I am simply here because Harry asked me to be and you'll find that there is very little that I would not do for him. He's been through enough, Mr. Weasley. He deserves the world." 

Harry swallowed thickly. It wasn't like Lucius to lay his cards on the table like that, and that he was willing to do so now — in front of a Weasley no less — meant everything to him. "I've been with him for months now, Ron," he said. "He's nothing like you think." His voice sounded harder than he meant it to, but he didn't mind. He had expected this kind of reception, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The disgusted look on his best mate's face hurt.

The tension was broken when Molly Weasley bustled over to the door. "Ron, is that Harry? Let him in!" she called. Then she peeked out the door and beamed at Harry until she saw Lucius and stopped short. "What?" she asked simply, bafflement clear on her round face.

"Oh, Harry was just introducing me to his date, mum," Ron said sarcastically. "Reckon he thinks Malfoy here is some kind of changed man. Bullshit if you ask me," he muttered.

"Language, Ronald," she snapped, more out of habit than anything. "Well, come in then," she offered, still clearly not understanding. "We aren't going to figure this out by standing in the doorway."

Basically every person at the party reacted in much the same manner and it was exhausting, to say the very least. Everyone they saw greeted Harry warmly until they saw who was with him and then he had to do his best to explain things and ignore the horrible looks they gave him. Meanwhile Lucius was as polite and charming as someone who was being simultaneously ignored and insulted could be. 

The absolute worst had been Ginny. She had taken one look at him, his fingers woven together with Lucius', before storming over to him and slapping him in the face. "What kind of stupid game are you playing here, Harry Potter?" she demanded, her cheeks flushed and brown eyes fierce.

Lucius had stood back and allowed everyone to say what they wished to Harry and about him, but he hadn't hesitated to step between Harry and Ginny at that moment. Harry's face stung and he was barely aware of what had happened until he was gently pushed behind his Daddy. 

And Lucius was absolutely Daddy at that moment. "Miss Weasley," he hissed. "I know our families have not gotten along well up to this point and I am more than willing to admit that the blame for that lies largely with me. I am truly sorry for the harm my actions may have brought upon your family, but I am afraid that harm may increase exponentially if you lay another finger on Harry."

Harry gulped, feeling all eyes on them and hoping no one pulled their wands on Lucius. Through the course of their day-to-day lives, it was easy to forget that Lucius had the potential to be a very dangerous man. It was not so easy to forget at that moment.

It was curious, too, to see Ginny react to this rebuke. She could be harsh at times. She often acted rashly and lived by a kind of "hex first, ask questions later" mentality, but it was very rare for anyone to take her to task for it as Lucius was currently doing. Her brown eyes, narrowed in frustration, were still spitting fire, but her lip trembled, revealing a kind of hurt.

Harry felt bad for her. He truly had intended to call her, to be with her again once he was capable of it. There was no way he could have ever expected things to turn out like they had, he knew that much. But he could still recognize that her position was not an especially nice one, faced with the man she had once hoped to marry in a relationship with the man who was likely her worst living enemy. He had to give her credit though; despite her quivering lower lip, she didn't back down.

"You have no right to even be here, Malfoy," she spat. "How dare you threaten me in my own home?"

Harry was unsure how Lucius would have responded to that because he was saved from having to do so by Arthur. "Now Ginny," he stepped forward, eyeing Lucius curiously, "I'm sure he didn't mean to threaten you. You did just hit Harry here, you know." 

Her father's gentle words accomplished what Lucius' cold one's had failed to do. Ginny's brown eyes filled with tears and, with a shriek, she stormed away. Harry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Lucius' waist, nuzzling against his shoulder blade for a second before letting go and stepping forward to stand beside him.

"Arthur," Lucius nodded to the man, "this is neither the time nor the place, but I would be grateful if, in the near future, Harry and I could have the chance to talk with you and your family. I'm certain that you have questions and we'd like to have the opportunity to answer them. I know that the support and love that your family has given to Harry over the years means a great deal to him." 

Arthur nodded, still studying Lucius as if he were a particularly interesting bit of Muggle technology. "Yes," Arthur chuckled, "I think that would be wise. Harry is much like a son to us but we've all drifted apart since the war, I suppose."

A pained look flashed across Lucius' face before he nodded briskly. "It happens," he said simply. "We'll owl you."

Arthur accepted and then smiled warmly at Harry, patting his shoulder before walking away. 

"That could have gone better," Harry murmured. 

Lucius grimaced. "It could have gone much worse as well. I thought I'd have to Apparate us home and that would not have looked good." 

Imagining the looks on everyone's faces if Lucius had simply grabbed Harry and yoinked him out of there cracked him up. Harry's laughter served to break the tension and then they felt ready to rejoin the party.

Not all of the reunions that day had been quite so tense, though.

Hermione had been polite and cordial even as she eyed them both suspiciously. The way her gaze lingered on Harry's throat left him dreading the next conversation he'd inevitably be having with her. She really was too bright and observant for Harry to keep any secrets from.

She had loved their gift, though, gushing about the books so much that Harry was certain Ron would be reading them too, whether he wanted to or not, before they went to the theater. She'd thanked them profusely, hugging Harry tightly and shaking Lucius' hand.

Luna had also been kind and accepting, if a bit odd, but that was nothing new. "Lord Malfoy," she said in her sweet airy voice, "it's so nice to see that the nargles are finally leaving you alone. You had quite a bad infestation of them."

Lucius looked to Harry, unsure what to say, but Harry could only shrug. "Yes," Lucius finally said, "I am feeling very well these days." Harry tried not to giggle and failed.

Luna wasn't bothered though. Nothing really rattled her. "I'd love to see your home under better circumstances," she added. "The last time wasn't optimal, but I'm sure it's lovely now. I hope you and Harry will invite me soon." That said, she smiled at both of them dreamily before walking away.

Humming thoughtfully Lucius said "I suppose we'll be hosting some rather interesting dinner parties in the new future." 

Harry laughed again before agreeing. This wasn't going to be easy, but it seemed they had a few allies. Reuniting himself with his friends and reuniting Lucius with the wizarding world would absolutely be worth it.


	11. All I Ever Wanted

Lucius couldn't remember the last time he felt so emotionally wrung out. He didn't even consider taking it out on Harry, though. Not this evening. It was highly likely that Harry was feeling even more unsettled than he was. 

It had been rather nice to be back amongst wizard-folk though, even if they had been mainly Gryffindors. And Weasleys at that. He thought with his new outlook on life, he may even get along with some of them if given the chance. Something would certainly have to be done about their youngest though; the girl seemed rather prone to violence and he had no doubt that she could cause problems for Harry. "I needn't worry about her at this point, though," he thought, changing out of the restrictive Muggle denims and into something more comfortable.

He found Harry in the sitting room where Lucius had brought him the first night still in the clothes he'd worn to the party. He was cuddled up on the sofa with an open book in his hands, but he didn't appear to be reading. He was simply gazing into the fireplace, deep in thought. He hadn't even noticed Lucius coming into the room. 

Transfixed, Lucius stood there gazing at Harry, running his thumb absently over his lower lip. He could still picture Narcissa sitting in much the same position doing the same thing. It may have been embroidery instead of a book, witches' robes of the finest silk instead of denims and a button-down shirt, but the similarities were still striking to Lucius. She had done all of her decision making in the same place, staring at the fire while she thought. It was where she had named Draco, where she had decided they needed to stop trying for another baby after their losses, where she had worried over the Dark Lord and all of their safety. She'd been right to worry, as it turned out.

The two loves of his life, he thought. It made sense that they'd be similar in some ways. One thing was surprising, though: this was the first time since the war had ended that he could remember thinking about his lovely wife that it hadn't hurt. He still mourned her and likely always would, but he could think of her beauty, her quiet devotion to him, her life, with love and gratefulness more than with the pain of loss. He supposed that he was healing too, right along with Harry.

"Are you just going to stand there all evening?" Harry chuckled, cutting through his inner musings. 

Lucius smiled softly back at him. "I was doing much the same as you, I believe," he responded as he crossed the room and settled on the sofa next to Harry. His back pressed to the couch, he threw an arm over the boy’s shoulder. Harry turned slightly, legs running the length of the couch, and nestled into his side. Lucius ran a hand through unruly dark curls before leaning his head over to press his cheek to them. Wrapping his arm protectively around his boy's chest, he asked: "How do you feel about today?"

Harry hummed. “Overall, I think it went well,” he said. “No one suspected you of cursing me or dosing me with love potions or anything, so that’s good. Hermione is going to have questions that make me all kinds of uncomfortable, but that’s classic Hermione. I’m used to it by now. I honestly think everyone will come around sooner or later. Except Ginny, of course. I really dread having to deal with her, but I know I have to.” 

“You absolutely do, I’m afraid,” he answered. “But you do not have to do so alone. Much as I loathe to repeat today’s situation, I have no intention of leaving you alone with her again. She has the potential to be utterly savage. I’d know. I’ve spent quite a lot of time around people like her.” He had seen the look in Ginny Weasley’s eyes as she’d slapped Harry. He’d seen a similar look in Bellatrix’s eyes once upon a time.

“That makes me sad,” Harry said softly. “I used to think I’d marry her one day, you know. She knows what it was like for me growing up and she hit me anyway. Why would she do that to someone she claimed to love?”

Lucius’ arm tightened around Harry. “I do not know, darling. But I will not allow her to do it again.”

He and Harry spent the rest of the evening there, talking about lighter things. At some point, Dipsy brought them popcorn to pop over the fire, so he sat on the floor with Harry to pop it. He felt far younger than his true age and he knew he was behaving in a way that would have his father rolling in his grave, but he was unconcerned. After all this time, his happiness, his and Harry’s, took precedence over all the things he’d once thought important. In the end, they’d only brought him grief anyway.

When they went to bed that night, he kissed Harry tenderly before snuggling up behind him. He buried his nose in the boy’s dark hair and slept peacefully, the scent of Harry calming him. Just as he was drifting off, he heard Harry murmur “Good night, Daddy,”

He smiled, unable to contain his pleasure. “Good night, darling boy. I love you.”

The following day, Lucius decided to plan something special. The previous day, despite being largely positive, had been difficult and stressful for the both of them. The weather was beginning to warm up and he wanted the chance to show off the Manor grounds to Harry in their early spring splendor. Having a picnic with Harry with daffodils blooming around them sounded blissful. He told Harry to gather some brooms for them in case they decided to fly some after lunch then informed Dipsy of his plans, asking her to pack them a nice lunch.

“Master,” she looked worried. “It’s not being right for Dipsy to tell you what to do, but you must be careful of the peacocks. You is knowing that they not be liking you, sir.”

Lucius laughed even as he inwardly shuddered. The feeling was entirely mutual, to be sure. “They won’t bother us, Dipsy. Don’t worry yourself over it.”

She looked back at him evenly, her eyes skeptical, but she said nothing else. How had his life come to this, he wondered genially, that he was being judged by his own house-elf?

The picnic had been rather a delight most of the time. Dipsy had given them thick roast beef sandwiches and greasy chips that were magically kept warm until they were ready to eat them. He and Harry sat on a blanket that had warming charms woven into it and were quite comfortable in the March air. They had laughed and teased one another; the feeling of being much younger than he was remained with Lucius. Harry did that to him and he would never complain about it. He wove a crown of daisies and laid it over Harry’s hair, proclaiming “My prince,” in false solemnity.

Harry responded by plucking a daffodil and slipping it behind Lucius’ ear. “You look like an elven lord,” he said, matching Lucius’ tone, his green eyes gleaming with fond humor. 

Of course the peacocks decided to show up then.

Lucius had a love-hate relationship with the peacocks. They had been a wedding gift from his father which, as far as he was concerned, was reason enough to hate them. Narcissa, though, had loved them. They had always come to her, preening before her and gently vying for her attention. She had often compared her beloved peafowl to him; pale and proud and begging for attention, she had said. He took offense, of course, but at the same time had not-so-secretly loved how she adored her birds simply because they reminded her of him.

The peacocks had never loved him, though. They did not preen for him. They did not desire his attention. They wanted his blood. He couldn’t count the amount of times that he’d run, shrieking in a most undignified manner, away from them. On his own grounds, no less. It was a disgrace, if he was being honest, but one he had gladly borne for her happiness. He had often considered getting rid of the birds since her death; he knew that he could easily find a buyer for a flock of rare albino peafowl. But he had never been able to let them go. They had been hers, really, and it didn’t seem right for them to not grace the Manor grounds with their beauty and reign of terror.

The birds approached Harry happily. Some spread their white tails while others walked directly to him. He rubbed their white heads happily and Lucius was left wondering which of them was really a fairy lord. Harry, his dark hair topped by a crown of flowers, surrounded by pale elegant feathered creatures, certainly seemed to fit the bill. He sat back and watched his boy interact with them, his heart warmed by the thought that Narcissa’s birds were still being doted on and adored in the same way that he was. Then he moved ever so slightly.

The peacocks had never liked Lucius and he had never liked them. When he shifted, leaning to one side to better see Harry happily interact with them, he apparently reminded them of this. The birds’ attention shifted from Harry to Lucius. His grey eyes widened as he watched them collectively turn their white heads toward him. Those that had been preening lowered their tails. Those that had been enjoying Harry’s touch turned their vile faces toward him. “Bloody fucking pigeons,” he spat before the fowl rushed him. 

He leapt up, gripping his wand tightly as they ganged up and began stalking toward him. A quickly cast Protego was the only thing that prevented him from being mauled as the birds rushed him. He backed away quickly but the birds kept coming, beady eyes full of malice, their collective minds intent on causing him harm. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he had screamed, not unlike a little girl, as he turned and ran from them. He was also vaguely aware of Harry rolling on the ground laughing as he retreated, the daffodil falling from his hair as he did so. He reached for one of the brooms that Harry had propped against a tree and, clambering over it, kicked off from the ground and flew above the reach of the foul fiends. They skittered around for a moment, disgruntled at the loss of their prey, before dispersing and presumably, returning to the hell from whence they came. 

Lucius landed beside Harry. He was laying back, daisy crown askew; tears were rolling down his dark face as he laughed loudly at Lucius’ pain. “I’m glad you find this so amusing,” he said dryly as he dismounted the broom. 

Harry sat up slightly to rest on his elbows, his eyes bright with mirth. "You really have a hard time with birds, don't you?" he asked lightly. 

Lucius glared at him before settling back down on the blanket and looking pointedly away. "I have no problem with reasonable birds, Mr. Potter. I merely take issue with birds who behave in such an uncouth manner." Those words set Harry off on another round of wild laughter while Lucius huffed gracefully beside him.

Long moments later, he heard Harry finally reign it in and then felt his solid weight pressing against his back. "I love you, Daddy," he murmured while he reached up to replace the daffodil that had fallen from Lucius' ear. Lucius suppressed a shiver as he felt Harry's strong fingers begin carding through his hair, smoothing it down his back.

He sighed and pressed back against Harry who had begun placing soft fluttery kisses to the side of his neck. "I love you too, darling," he said softly. He felt Harry's lips tip upward, smiling against his neck.

They wound up laying on the blanket much of the afternoon, Lucius' head on Harry's chest, Harry's fingers toying with long strands of his pale hair. Lucius told Harry the story behind the peacocks and they both laughed about the birds' apparent eternal hatred of him. They began planning a dinner party to help reconcile Harry with the Weasleys, deciding that he would need to meet with Ginny first to prevent any real drama from unfolding at the dinner table.

All in all, it was a wonderful afternoon and it led to a rather more wonderful evening.

When they went back inside, Lucius told Harry to wait for him in the bedroom while he returned their picnic things to Dipsy. She looked at him knowingly with equal measures of disappointment and amusement, but said nothing. He had to wonder if she was in cahoots with the peacocks honestly. She shouldn't have known they'd come after him and he wasn't about to tell her of it, but clearly she knew anyway. He gazed back at her, trying to look both innocent and in control, but he was rather sure it hadn't any effect on her.

Back in the bedroom, Harry was sitting on the bed waiting for him, a look of anticipation on his pretty face.

"Waiting for something, darling?" Lucius asked, smirking.

"Just waiting for you, Daddy," he said.

"Good boy," Lucius said smoothly, running pale fingers over Harry's jawline, savoring the feel of the light stubble he felt there. 

He had always found himself equally attracted to both witches and wizards. He delighted in the hard lines of a man's body, the coarseness of their body hair, the rough feel of an unshaven face the same way that he loved the soft curves of the feminine form. In his way of thinking, the human body was all beauty and art.

And Harry Potter was truly a work of art. 

Lucius began undressing him slowly. Buttons came undone one by one until his shirt was open completely. He pulled Harry's arms out of it and slowly folded it just to build anticipation. That done, he knelt on the floor before Harry. He reached out, splaying his long fingers out over Harry's golden ribs before leaning in and running his tongue around one dark nipple, bringing it to a hard tight peak. After repeating that motion on the other side, he pressed a gentle kiss to that lovely little nipple before moving his hand to the center of Harry's chest and pushing him down flat on the bed. Harry responded without question, so beautifully pliable and obedient. "I would gladly do this with him for the rest of my life," Lucius thought.

He ran his hands up denim-clad thighs, his eye drawn to the growing bulge of Harry's crotch. Always a kind daddy, he opened the fly of Harry's trousers to release some of the pressure around his hardening cock. He stood briefly to pull the boy's jeans all the way off, leaving his pants in place. Kneeling between his legs again, he buried his face in Harry's crotch, inhaling the musky sweet scent of him before mouthing at his balls through the light fabric.

"Please, Daddy," Harry moaned quietly.

"I've got you, darling," he said huskily. "You're so good for me." He continued to play with Harry through his pants for a moment, running his hot mouth along Harry's shaft, licking at the wet patch of precum that was slowly seeping into the fabric. Hearing Harry whimper and beg was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard.

Finally he stood and pulled the wet pants off. He gazed hungrily at Harry. He looked so edible there, his skin shining with a thin layer of sweat on the inky blue duvet, legs splayed wide and hanging partly off the edge of the bed, his green eyes hooded with arousal. He opened his own fly because his trousers were feeling rather tight too, but left the rest of his clothes on for now. There was something so compelling to him about having Harry naked before him while he was still completely clothed.

"I want to fuck you, darling," he announced softly. "I want to fuck you, then dress you up and take you to the club. I want to dance with you, knowing that my come is slowly leaking from your pretty little arse. Is that alright with you?"

"Uhnf," Harry responded unintelligibly, his green eyes wide and lusty. "Yes. Yes, please Daddy. Please do that," he begged.

Lucius smiled, pleased. "Good boy. Don't you worry, darling. Now that I know you want it, I'll do exactly what I said I'd do."

He moved Harry back on the bed, resting his dark head on a pillow, then lay on top of him, pressing his clothed body against Harry's nude one. Harry arched up into him, apparently unbothered by the buttons and fabric rubbing against his sensitive skin. Lucius kissed his mouth roughly, tasting him, nibbling his soft lips, before moving to that stubbled jaw that he had been admiring just a moment ago. 

He worked his fingers through Harry's hair as he sucked and bit Harry's neck, just below his collar. Certain that it would leave a lovely mark, he shifted slowly down Harry's body, marking his chest, tonguing the coarse hair there, suckling his brown nipples, lapping at his navel. The whole time, Harry's hands grabbed at him, clutching at his shirt, his long hair. He made the most delicious noises and Lucius could not get enough.

When he reached Harry's groin, he sat up and removed his shirt. He desired more freedom of movement and he had every intention of remaining between Harry's legs for a good while. He summoned a pot of lubricant and sat it next to him on the bed before settling down between Harry's legs. He coated his fingers liberally with lube and slid his slick fingers over Harry's entrance. gently breaching the boy with one finger, he sucked a third bruise onto his dark skin, on the junction between his hip and thigh. He quite liked the sight of his boy there before him, wearing nothing but the collar and the marks that he had given him.

As he slid a second finger into Harry's tight opening, he lapped at the weeping head of his cock, tasting his salty slit. Harry moaned, tangling his fingers in Lucius' pale hair as Lucius drove those long digits into him. Crooking them, he located Harry's prostate and ran his fingertips over the little bump, savoring the music of Harry's moaning. 

He scissored his fingers as wide as he could, stretching and loosening that tight ring of muscle as he took Harry's hard length into his mouth. His own cock throbbed between his legs; he relished the weight of Harry's cock on his tongue, the heat of his narrow passage around his fingers. He slipped a third finger into Harry and began thrusting in and out in time with his bobbing head. With a loud cry, Harry tensed up and began spurting hot come onto his tongue. Lucius continued thrusting his fingers throughout Harry's orgasm, gently lapping at his oversensitive cock when he was spent. 

"Please, please, Daddy!" Harry gasped as Lucius suckled him. Lucius chuckled as he pulled away, gently extracting his fingers from Harry's arse and admiring the way his loosened hole fluttered. He slipped his trousers and pants off and, fisting his own throbbing cock, laid back down next to Harry. 

Harry rolled to his side and wrapped his arms around Lucius neck, kissing him hard, his tongue plundering Lucius' mouth as if he was trying to taste his release on his Daddy's lips. Lucius kissed him back just as fiercely, staking his claim on this beautiful perfect boy and running a hand down Harry's back, cupping his arse and gently spreading his cheeks apart. 

"On your hands and knees, darling boy," he said when he pulled away. Harry scrambled to obey and Lucius got to his knees, moving around behind Harry. 

"Merlin, you're gorgeous," he said, without even meaning to. The sight of Harry on his hands and knees before him, his dark skin glazed over with sweat, his perfect arse on display, his winking hole stretched and waiting for him was one of the most incredible things he'd ever seen. Lucius moved close, coating his prick with lube, and leaned down to kiss Harry's smooth back. "Just relax, darling," he murmured as he grabbed his cock tightly just behind the head, forcing the blood to the tip. Ever so slowly, he pressed forward, sliding the head of his cock into the heat of Harry's arse. 

Harry whimpered slightly at the intrusion and Lucius rubbed his back soothingly until he relaxed. He wanted his boy's first time to be as perfect as he deserved it to be, as perfect as he was, as perfect as they were together. "I'm alright now, Daddy," he murmured softly.

"Good boy," Lucius intoned as he slid the rest of his length into Harry's slick channel. He thrust slowly, shallowly, aiming to brush Harry's prostate and grinning at Harry's reaction when he did so. Keeping that angle, he slid his cock against that spot with every thrust and reached around Harry's narrow hips to grab his hardening prick. He fondled the boy's cock and balls, hoping to wring a second orgasm out of him.

Harry began murmuring incoherently, rocking back into Lucius as he thrust. His cock hardened beautifully in Lucius' hand. They moved together perfectly and Lucius began losing himself in sensation. The sound of his balls smacking against Harry's body, the squelching sound of him driving into Harry's slick hole, the sound of both of them moaning together; it all served to drive Lucius' passion ever higher. 

He felt his balls begin to tighten and knew he wouldn't last much longer. "Come for me, darling," he urged his love. As if he'd only been waiting for permission, Harry tensed and released his emissions onto the bed before him. The clenching of his hole around Lucius, combined with how close he already was, pushed him over the edge. He praised Harry, he worshipped him, as he pumped the boy full of hot come.

When he pulled out, he watched a tiny trickle seep out of Harry's open hole. He had to tamper the desire to seal his lips over that gorgeous arse and lap his fluids out of the boy. He had promised Harry a night of dancing while feeling his come trickle out of his arse and into his trousers, so that is what he was going to give him. He vanished the wet spot on the bed before laying Harry down and draping himself across the bed beside him.

Harry turned his head and kissed Lucius softly. "I love you so much," he said, his green eyes shining, and Lucius' heart soared. 

"I love you too, darling," he smiled softly. "Do you still want to go dancing?"

Harry's eyes took on a wicked gleam as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Lucius'. "Yep," he said happily. "Definitely not ready for this night to end!"

Lucius laid Harry’s leather trousers on the bed for him to put on, along with a red silk button down that matched his collar and boots perfectly. He decided to show off his own leather trousers this time as well. They were tight, highlighting his long legs, and laced up the front. He pulled his hair back in a low ponytail while Harry got dressed, excited to get going.

When they were both ready, Lucius surveyed his boy thoughtfully before reaching out and unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it free from his trousers. He spelled the wrinkles out and left the shirt hanging open, showing off the bruise he’d sucked onto Harry’s chest and the flat plane of Harry’s stomach. 

“You want me on display tonight?” Harry asked, his green eyes sparkling.

Lucius hummed. “I do. I want everyone to know what I have and they do not. It’s the Malfoy way,” he said, making Harry laugh.

Grinning back cheekily, he said, “I suppose it is.”

Their arrival to the Wicked Witch was no different than it had been previously. They were let in, they were treated to many appreciative looks from the other patrons, and they made their way to the dance floor. 

It was hot and it was loud and Lucius loved every minute of it. He loved grinding against Harry’s tight arse and whispering filthy things in his ear, reminding him of the come that was still dribbling from his arse. He felt his own cock twitch every time he thought about it and, from the hungry looks Harry gave him throughout the night, he thought he must be feeling the same way. 

At one point, Harry faced Lucius and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. Leaning close he said, “You can do any filthy things to me you want, Daddy.” So Lucius had promptly unbuttoned Harry’s trousers and plunged his hand down the back of them to run a finger over the puckered rim of his hole. Finding it still wet with come as he had hoped it would be, he pulled his hand free and slipped his finger into his mouth before kissing Harry, licking into his mouth as their bodies ground together. 

Harry’s cock had slipped out of his loosened trousers and stood firmly between them. When Lucius pulled away from Harry’s sweet mouth, he said wickedly “Let’s go get a drink, love.” He grabbed Harry’s cock and gently led him off the dance floor by it; Harry’s eyes were wide as he followed. When they reached the edge of the dance floor, Lucius knelt in front of Harry, licked a stripe up his cock, and then tucked it back into his trousers, buttoning them up and giving the firm bulge a gentle pat before standing and smirking at Harry’s shocked face.

“You’re so mean, Daddy,” he whined.

“I know,” Lucius replied, smirking smugly. “You love me for it.”

He led them to the bar and had Harry sit while he placed their order and gave instructions to the bartender regarding what Harry was allowed to have for the evening. When he returned to Harry, he found him chatting with the sub he’d met the first night he’d come here. He had played with Corban a handful of times before Harry came into his life, but only ever on a casual level.

Corban noticed him walking over and that was when their night got extra wild.

“Hey, Daddy,” Corban drawled as he always had done when he saw Lucius. Lucius stopped short at the moniker though. It might have been alright at one time, but it was no longer acceptable. That name was Harry’s alone now.

Lucius would have told Corban that. He would have if he’d had the chance. His bloody Gryffindor of a boy, though, behaved in typical Gryffindor fashion. Lucius saw the look in his green eyes and he recognized it. It was the same look Harry’d worn when provoking that Muggle in the pub where he’d first found him. Harry was out for blood. He was in Corban’s face before Lucius could do a thing to stop it.

“Fuck off!” he shouted. 

“Harry!” Lucius snapped, cutting Harry off from whatever he'd intended to say next, his voice ringing with authority. Harry stopped when he heard that voice, the Daddy voice, snapping at him. His shoulders drooped as the fight went out of him.

Giving a hasty explanation to Corban, along with a harsh warning to not use that title for him again, he spun Harry around to face him.

“Do you not trust me, Harry?” he asked sharply.

“I do!” Harry protested. “I do, I just didn’t…you’re my Daddy,” he said, eyes wide and wet.

Lucius softened. He had always been so lenient with those he loved - too lenient, perhaps, when all was said and done - but it couldn’t be helped. The list of those that he loved was extremely short, so he could afford to be lenient with those few. He sighed, frustrated that Harry had behaved like that and frustrated with the fact that he had to do something about it now.

“Yes, love, I am yours. He has no right to call me that and I was in the process of telling him as much. That you felt the need to do so yourself shows either a lack of trust or a lack of discipline. You must trust me to take care of any situation that arises,” he said firmly.

Harry nodded. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, Daddy,” he replied.

“I forgive you, darling,” Lucius told him. “I’ll always forgive you. But you do know that I’ll have to punish you now, don’t you?” He continued when Harry nodded, “Good, because I’m going to punish you here at the club. Then everyone will see who belongs to me and who I belong to and they won’t be so presumptuous again.”

Harry sucked in a breath, suddenly looking rather nervous. He steeled his nerves quickly though. The Boy Who Defeated the Dark Lord was no coward. “Okay, Daddy. Thank you,” his voice sounded small, belying the determination on his face.

“Good boy,” Lucius praised as he took Harry’s hand and, lacing their fingers together, he led him to the dungeon area.

He located an empty chair and sat it in an empty spot in the room. Looking at Harry calculatingly, he ordered, “Trousers down around your knees, hands flat on the chair. If at any point you truly need me to stop, say Salazar.” He had thought that Harry might object, but he didn’t, once again showing off that lovely obedience that he seemed to have when dealing with Lucius on this level. 

He looked at Harry with admiration then, knowing that the boy couldn’t see him right now. He stood there in the middle of the club, pants down, arse up, his leaking hole on full display; he was so brave, so good, and Lucius didn’t hesitate to tell him so. He could have transfigured a flogger or a paddle out of something, but since they were here in a room full of Muggles, that really wasn’t an option. “It’s no matter,” he thought. “Punishing him with my hands will be just as rewarding.” He pushed Harry’s shirt up his back, revealing more of his smooth golden skin; he didn’t want the shirt getting in his way.

Harry flinched the first time Lucius slapped his arse. Lucius gently rubbed his arse and back to soothe him before he continued. Five more slaps had Harry quietly taking his punishment. Lucius aimed carefully to surprise the boy, sometimes smacking the right cheek, sometimes the left, sometimes he aimed right for his perfect little hole. Ten more slaps saw Harry whimpering, his arse reddening under Lucius’ pale hand. Twice, he swiped up a trickle of come that leaked from his arse and slipped his finger in Harry’s mouth before continuing. “Just a few more, love,” Lucius soothed. “You’re doing beautifully, darling.” 

When he got to twenty-five, Harry’s arms were shaking, tears rolled down his cheeks. Lucius kissed his face, brushing his tears away and praising him as he lowered him down to his knees, arranging him so that he was resting on his elbows and could lay his head on his arms. He went back behind Harry and knelt on the floor behind him, rubbing his arse softly, pressing soft kisses to hot angry flesh. He ran his tongue over Harry’s now puffy entrance, kissing him in that most private of places even while they were very much in public. Nothing really mattered to Lucius aside from making sure that Harry was alright.

When he had done all that he could for Harry until they got home, he picked the boy up, tugged his trousers up over his body, and led him to a soft couch at the edge of the room. He asked a Dungeon Monitor to bring him a bottle of water and then gently urged Harry to drink, praising him all the time. He pulled Harry into his chest and stroked his hair, one arm wrapped protectively around his boy. He sat there holding Harry and hoping that he hadn’t taken it too far, that Harry was still enjoying the lifestyle after his first exposure to this side of it.

Then Harry began to come out of the drop, nuzzling into Lucius’ chest. He kissed that dark head gently, incredibly gratified when Harry murmured, “Thank you, Daddy.”


	12. Till the End of Time

Harry woke the next morning cradled to Lucius and feeling incredibly happy. His arse hurt in more ways than one, but it was a pleasant ache, an ache that reminded him of who he belonged to and how perfect they were together. The feeling of Lucius’ strong arms wrapped around him was utterly perfect and he found that he really didn’t want to move. Like, ever. 

His stirring had apparently roused his Daddy though. “How are you doing, darling?” Lucius asked, his voice still thick with sleep. It meant more than he could ever say to know that he was Lucius’ first thought when they woke up in the morning. 

“I’m really good,” he said, trying his best to convey the absolute truth in those words. “I mean, my arse hurts, but I like it,” he chuckled. 

Lucius shifted them both so that they were lying on their sides facing each other. He smiled softly, his grey eyes warm. “I’m glad of that, darling. I didn’t get the chance to tell you last night, but I am so proud of you. You are so brave and so good.”

“You did tell me last night,” Harry laughed. “I was pretty out of it, but I heard you. I’m really proud of you too, you know.”

Lucius snorted. “I appreciate that, which is why I’m going to ask you to stay home today unless you have somewhere you’d like to go on your own.”

Harry was confused. There hadn’t been anywhere that Lucius had gone since he’d come here that he hadn’t been willing to take Harry along. More than that, honestly; he usually made Harry come along.

“I have to go to the Ministry today,” Lucius finally took pity on him. He was probably inwardly laughing at Harry’s dumb expression. He wished he had a cool mask like all of the Malfoys, even the ones in the Manor portraits, seemed to possess. Maybe Lucius could teach him that. At any rate, he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t go there with Lucius. He’d been there plenty of times before. 

“The people at the Ministry do not like me and they make no secret of it,” Lucius said patiently, although Harry was relatively certain he hadn’t asked. Yet. “I do not wish you to feel the need to defend me, nor do I wish you to see me like that, if I’m being honest. It’s humiliating,” he finished quietly.

Wrapping a lock of Lucius’ blond hair around his finger, he leaned forward and kissed his pink lips softly. “That’s alright, Daddy. I’ll just stay here. I want to write to Luna and see if maybe she’d help us meet with Ginny. Ginny’s better with Luna around. And I’ve got loads of books to read. Just be careful, yeah,” he said easily. It might be nice to have some quiet time. He could walk around with no trousers on for one thing, which he’d always thought would be a funny thing to do in the Manor. No better time than now; his arse deserved a break from fabric today. The portraits would probably tell on him, but oh well.

Smiling, Lucius asked, “Are you going to have a lie-in then?” 

Harry nodded and prepared himself to watch Lucius get ready for the day from the warmth of their bed. Lucius leaned in and kissed him and he nuzzled back into the pillows only to have the duvet whipped off of his naked body. Before he could even react, Lucius had flipped him onto his belly, spread his arse cheeks, and planted a kiss right on his sore arsehole. He yelped and glared at his Daddy, pulling the duvet back over him as Lucius laughed his way into the bathroom. 

He did get to watch Lucius emerge from the bathroom with a towel around his narrow waist though, pale skin glowing in the morning sunlight like the elven lord that Harry always accused him of being. He got to watch as Lucius dressed meticulously in very traditional wizarding robes, as he combed his soft hair back from his face, as he concealed his wand in his cane and gripped it tightly. He looked back at Harry before he went down to have breakfast and Harry smiled back softly.

“You look amazing, Lord Malfoy,” he said seriously. “If they find something wrong with you, the fault is really theirs.” 

Lucius crossed the room quickly and, without a word, kissed Harry deeply. “I love you,” he said soberly, running a hand over Harry’s face before turning back to the door.

“I love you too, Daddy,” Harry called after him. “Be safe!”

The thing was, Harry had slept quite well the night before. The bed wasn’t half as warm without Lucius in it and since he wasn’t sleepy at all anymore, he thought he may as well go ahead and get up. He took a leisurely shower and then pulled one of Lucius’ button-down shirts on. He buttoned it most of the way up, but didn’t bother with any other clothing for the time being. The shirt was long enough to mostly cover his arse and he was alone here except for a house-elf who'd surely seen worse in her life than a half-dressed guy. He grabbed a bagel and a cup of coffee from Dipsy and made his way to Lucius’ study to write a letter to Luna.

He was reasonably certain that Luna would help and he knew that she would be the best option for keeping Ginny calm and maintaining neutrality. She might be odd, but she was a dear, sweet girl who always saw the best in everyone. 

He had just about wrapped up his letter when the Floo flared to life. They did not have visitors ever — not once for as long as he’d lived here — so he was certain that he was about to get a dressing down for, well, for dressing down, as it were. He turned toward the Floo, prepared for his Daddy to look at him in exasperation as he stepped into the room. Imagine his surprise, then, when a similar but very different blond man stepped out of the fireplace.

“Potter?” Draco spat, obviously confused.

Harry’s eyes widened. There was really no possible explanation that he could give to Draco for why he was in Lucius Malfoy’s study wearing nothing but a button-down shirt. “Erm, hello Draco,” he managed. Not the best opener, but what could he do?

Draco crossed the room with the same graceful quickness that Lucius had, his wand suddenly clenched in his hand. “What the fuck are you doing in my father’s house, Potter?” he demanded, grey eyes, so similar to Lucius’, narrowed. “Explain!”

Damn. He really had inherited a lot from Lucius. Harry found it rather difficult to resist that tone of voice. At least he could be relatively sure that Draco wouldn’t insist he bend over for him. He was sure he could call for Dipsy if it did happen, at any rate. “Well,” he began slowly, “I’m. Er. I’m kind of living here now. With Lucius.” He studied Draco, hoping he didn’t need to run away because he was really in no position to fight right now, being mostly naked and having left his wand in the bedroom.

To his surprise, Draco burst into laughter. It wasn’t an especially nice laughter though. “You mean to tell me that my father picked you, Scarhead Potter, to replace my mother?” he demanded incredulously. 

Harry faltered. “Well, no, I don’t think anyone could replace your mother, Draco. I’m just with Lucius now. He’s told me a lot about her. She seems lovely.”

Grey eyes darkened. “She was lovely, you twat, and my father got her killed,” he spat. “You know what, fuck it, he probably deserves someone like you. Fucking filthy half-blood.”

Without regard for the fact that he was less than elegantly clad, Harry stood up and moved into Malfoy’s personal space. This was the Malfoy he had grown up with and he felt the familiar rush of righteous anger pounding through his blood like magic. He said the only thing he could think to say which, in retrospect, was probably not the best, but he said what he said. He moved even closer to Malfoy, meeting his eyes furiously, and said “You know what, Draco? My Daddy’s going to hear about this!”

That said, he stormed out of the room and asked Dipsy to please deal with her Master’s son. He wasn’t exactly sure how that was going to play out, but at least it wasn’t his responsibility any longer. He grabbed a book and settled back into bed. Maybe he should have had more of a lie-in after all.

Thankfully, when Lucius heard about what had happened with Draco, he wasn’t angry. Well, he was less than pleased with his son’s sentiments about blood purity even after all they’d been through, but he hadn’t been angry with Harry anyway. Harry had nervously relayed what he’d said to Draco, expecting the worst, only to have Lucius burst into laughter. “You are precious, darling,” he said once he could speak again. 

Harry shrugged awkwardly. “Well, he always said it to me in school. I reckon it’s only fair I finally get to say it back.”

Still laughing, Lucius had pulled Harry close. “Quite right,” he said with amusement. “Don’t worry yourself about it, anyway. He merely wanted his mother’s ring to give to the Greengrass girl he’s been courting. I’ll send it to him and he’ll probably be grateful to have not seen me, no matter how disturbing his encounter with you may have been.”

Harry was sad that it was that way for them. He knew that Lucius loved his son and he knew that Lucius was worthy of so much love. He supposed there was only so much he could do, though, to reconcile people who really had no interest in reconciliation. Maybe a project for the future, though. 

As far as reconciliation went, he was making a fair amount of progress though. He had gotten Ginny and Luna to agree to meet with him and Lucius in a Muggle coffee shop. He hoped that the location would keep things from getting too loud and would at least prevent anyone from being magically harmed. No matter how angry Ginny got, he didn’t think she’d risk breaching the Statute of Secrecy. The rest of the Weasley family, including Hermione, had accepted an invitation to the Manor for a dinner party as well, so he was hoping that within the week, he could be on his way to having his family back and Lucius could have some powerful allies in the wizarding world.

The day of his meeting with Ginny arrived much more quickly than he’d have liked. He spent the morning dithering around and changing his clothes multiple times until Lucius picked out an outfit for him and firmly told him to wear it. He noted that the shirt he’d chosen for him was cut in such a way that his collar stood out starkly above its neckline, but he couldn’t blame his Daddy for that. Especially not after how jealously he’d acted about that Corban guy in the club.

Despite all of his dithering, they still arrived at the coffee shop earlier than the girls. Lucius told him to choose a seat while he ordered their drinks, which is why he was sitting alone when Ginny and Luna walked in. They spotted him immediately and he saw Ginny’s face light up as she rushed to him. He stood to greet them and was shocked when she threw herself at him, wrapping thin freckled arms around his neck. He hugged her back awkwardly, head reeling from the sharp turn in her attitude toward him.

He understood a moment later, when Lucius approached the table and cleared his throat. She jumped quickly away from him and looked between them in confusion, her eyes darkening with rage when she realised that Harry was not, in fact, here alone to meet her.

She stalked away without a word and Luna rushed after her, stopping her from leaving the shop and instead leading her to the counter to order a drink. 

“I’m afraid this isn’t going well already,” Harry murmured to Lucius after they had sat down to wait for the girls.

“It’s alright, darling,” he whispered back. “Just a bit of confusion. It will be fine.”

When Luna led Ginny back to the table, beverages in hand, she did appear much calmer. “I take it you’re not here to get back together with me, then,” Ginny said flatly. 

Glancing at Lucius uncomfortably, Harry murmured, “Erm, well, no. I'm sorry if I led you to believe that. I, I’m with Lucius, Gin, and I’m so fucking happy. But I really care about you and I’d love it if we could still be friends.”

In hindsight, Harry thought he was probably lucky she hadn’t attacked him again. Or attacked Lucius, for that matter. He wouldn’t have responded to that well. But she had certainly laid into him, completely disregarding the fact that they were in public. How had he forgotten how piercing her voice could be? Merlin, she was a bit like a harpy telling him how fucked up he was and how he’d never find happiness, which was honestly a bit asinine considering he’d just told her how happy he was. He supposed he wasn’t the only one who’d been damaged by all that they’d gone through in their relatively short lives.

It wasn’t until she got to the bit about Lucius trying to kill her that he decided he had to cut in. “What are you on about, Ginny?” he demanded. 

She looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “The diary,” she said sarcastically. “My first year. Are you so barmy that you’ve forgotten that time you fought a giant snake?”

Oh. That. If he was honest, he had kind of forgotten that. He had remembered Dobby’s role in all of it, but not so much Ginny’s, which was probably pretty telling that they didn’t belong together. He looked at Lucius helplessly; Lucius was wearing his cool Malfoy mask, so Harry figured that he was at a loss for words as well.

“Miss Weasley,” he cut in smoothly. Malfoys might not be the picture of bravery, but it could be said for Lucius that his manners were impeccable. “I do sincerely apologize for my role in those terrible events. It is true that you could have died and it is only thanks to Harry’s strength and bravery that you didn’t. I had no idea what that book would do to whomever held it. That is not an excuse, though, because I was absolutely sure that whatever happened, it wouldn’t be good. All that I can say for myself is that I am a different man now, and I am truly sorry for the harm I caused.”

It was a lovely sentiment and Harry knew how deeply Lucius meant what he said, but Ginny just gazed at him with thinly veiled contempt. “Whatever, Malfoy,” she said flatly. “I guess Harry’s picked you for whatever reason and I’ll support him." She sounded as if she would do no such thing. "But know that when he comes to his senses," she continued, "I’ll be the one there to help him pick up the pieces.”

She looked so smug that Harry couldn’t contain his irritation. “Oh, right, just like you were there the last time I needed someone to help me pick up the pieces?”

Hurt showed on her freckled face then and Harry was happy to see it. “That’s not fair, Harry,” she said in a softer tone than any she’d spoken in before. “I was hurting too and I didn’t know what to do for you. You wouldn’t let anybody help you.”

“Lucius did it anyway,” Harry said, matching her soft tone.

That was the moment Luna chose to intervene. “I think,” she said in her dreamy tone, “that’s probably a good place to stop for today. There’s no use running around in circles, it’s best if we all go home for now and run in straight lines. I’ll see you both at your dinner party, though. I’m looking forward to it everso!”

“How did you even know about the dinner party?” Harry asked fondly, if rather baffled. He had no idea what she was talking about, so he latched on to the most sensible part of her statement.

She laughed brightly, “You’re so silly, Harry! Come on, Ginny. Let’s go back to the Burrow. We can run in straight lines, or you can fly and I’ll try to keep up.”

As the girls left, Lucius looked at Harry, his cool mask replaced by a look of utter confusion. “Did that go well, or…?”

Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to Lucius’ cheek. “You know, Daddy,” he said, laughing quietly, “I honestly think that it did.”

They had only a few days after meeting with Ginny before their dinner party. They had invited all of the Weasleys and, apparently, Luna; all of them save Charlie, Bill, and Ginny had accepted. The eldest boys, Harry assumed, were out of the country for work, and Ginny… well, he was sure Luna would bring her along if it was possible.

They spent those few days alternatively trying to behave as normally as possible and panicking. Lucius, for all his quiet confidence, was obviously nervous about having wizard-folk back in his home. Harry thought that was totally understandable, if a bit misguided; the last time he’d had a group of wizards in his dining room, they’d been headed by Lord Voldemort. Not to mention the fact that Lucius had spent the past few years staying as far out of wizarding society as possible and was now only rejoining said society for Harry. 

Harry was doing his own fair share of panicking. The Weasleys had been the closest thing to a real family that he’d ever had. The thought of them rejecting him because he’d finally found somewhere that he belonged and some measure of happiness was a devastating one. He brooded and made so many adjustments to their planned menu that Dipsy banned him from the kitchen.

During the times that they weren’t panicking, their “living as normally as possible” went well enough. They bought rather more new clothes than they could possibly have needed, paced in the library rather more than they’d done in all the past few months combined, made love with more urgency than they’d ever done (which was saying something), but it'd all had a tinge of normalcy at any rate. The point is that they both dreaded and anticipated the arrival — and passing — of their Saturday night dinner party. 

Despite all the time they’d spent thinking about it, they were both almost surprised when the day arrived without fanfare. They spent the better part of the day lounging around pretending to read, pretending to write, beginning half-hearted conversations that neither had any interest in finishing. When the time came for them to finally get ready, it came as something of a relief to both of them.

They had meticulously planned their outfits, deciding that, once again, Muggle clothes would be the best way to go. Lucius pulled Harry into the shower with him and, after washing his hair and body for him, he pulled him close and kissed him deeply, their slick bodies moving together in a rather delightful way. They kissed and rubbed against one another frantically, Harry’s hands tangling in Lucius’s wet blond hair as they found their release together and held each other as it flowed down the drain. 

They dried their hair and dressed quietly just in the nick of time. As they stepped out of the bedroom, hand in hand, the door chimed. Then their home was inundated with Weasleys and one Luna Lovegood for the foreseeable future.

It all started out well enough, Harry supposed. He and Lucius greeted them all at the door and invited them to the sitting room for drinks. Molly and Arthur were pleasantly cordial. George was rather abrupt but not entirely unkind. Hermione and Ron both hugged Harry and carefully avoided Lucius. Luna hugged them both and complemented Lucius on how much nicer the house looked this time. 

Lucius thanked her rather awkwardly, the same baffled amusement on his face that everyone wore around Luna, although his version was tinged with discomfort; he knew as well as anyone else that the only other time she’d been there was as a prisoner of war.

They all sat there uncomfortably, drinks in hand, doing their best to make polite small talk when Ron piped up. “So, mate, what’s it like living here?” he asked, his blue eyes wide as he looked around at the finery of the Manor.

“Oh, it’s brilliant!” Harry answered, grateful for a chance to actually talk with his friends about something pleasant. “I mean, I think I’d be happy anywhere with him, but it’s….”

“Why?” Ron cut him off.

“Why what?”

“Why would you be happy with him when you could never even be happy around all of us? You know, your family? The ones who were with you through everything,” Ron’s voice grew angry as he spit out words that he must have been sitting on for far too long.

“That’s not fair!” Harry all but shouted. “It’s not that I was unhappy with all of you; it’s that my head was messed up! I had to get better before I could be happy anywhere.”

“Oh, and we just weren’t rich enough to help you get straightened out, is that it? Our house not big enough for your giant head?” Ron was shouting now.

“Ronald, stop it,” Hermione hissed. 

“Don’t even start, Hermione,” Ron said to her. “You’re the one that’s been going on about how that thing on his neck must be controlling him!”

“I didn’t say that, Ron,” she said quickly. “I just had been doing some research about it and…”

“Oi!” Harry raised his voice. “What are you doing researching my life? You could have just asked me!”

“Well, Harry, it’s not like we haven’t tried before. You never even answered any owls until the one that I charmed with a searching spell,” she answered calmly.

“I came to your bloody party and I’ve been writing with Luna for weeks! You didn’t try this time!” Harry was in a rage, tampered only by Lucius’ cool hand squeezing his arm.

Hermione looked worried. “I don’t think you’re being controlled now. I think I’ve figured it out…” Harry glared at her. How dare she? It was none of her business, really, but if she’d just asked he’d have tried to explain it. They had enough books here, honestly. He could have let her borrow one. “Oh, Ron,” she finally exclaimed, “maybe we should just go.”

“I’m all for that,” George piped in. “If they’re going, I see no reason for the rest of us to stay.”

“Well, I do have knitting I could be working on,” Molly said tentatively.

“STOP!” Everyone had been talking over one another, but when peaceful, dreamy Luna yelled, it was bound to be worth listening to. “We came here for Harry!” she said, more forcefully than anyone would’ve imagined she could be. “We came here for Harry and for his lover, to find out how they’re doing and to eat dinner with them! Harry’s right here and he seems willing to talk to us and his lover is behind him being supportive and I can smell dinner and I would love to have more of the food from Lord Malfoy’s house-elf. She’s quite a good cook, even when it’s only bread and water.”

The Weasley’s all looked at one another rather sheepishly and seemed to decide collectively that Luna was right. Not that anyone should ever doubt that. Luna was usually right when it was something important.

They all went to the table and seated themselves quietly. Dipsy came in immediately afterward, snapped her fingers, and the meal appeared on the table. Everything looked and smelled incredible and Harry told her so. 

“Yes, thank you very much Dipsy,” Lucius said kindly.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, “Are you sure it’s really a good idea to be relying on the slavery of house-elves here?”

“Dipsy is like family, Hermione,” he replied calmly. “I’d like to see you try to stop her from doing what she does. She’s really the one in charge here,” he laughed. “Even Lucius does what she tells him to. Usually,” he smirked, thinking about the peacock situation. 

Hermione looked skeptical though. “Are you sure he even treats her well, though? I mean, remember poor Dobby.”

Furrowing his brow, Harry said, “Are you honestly suggesting that I forgot about Dobby? I buried him with my own hands, Hermione! That’s something Lucius and I have discussed at length and I assure you, he and I both treat Dipsy with all of the respect she deserves. She’s a good friend.” He didn’t say “better than you've been lately” but if it was implied, what could he do?

Hermione nodded then, the room still rather tense. She said nothing more, though.

“Mate,” Ron chimed in, his mouth full of potato. “Remember that time Dobby broke your arm?”

Lucius looked up sharply. “What was that?”

“Yeah,” Ron laughed. “Dobby charmed a bludger to attack Harry and broke his arm. Then Lockhart tried to fix it but he just removed all Harry’s bones. It was disgusting.”

George was laughing then too. “It was pretty nasty, but a great laugh still! Imagine, taking the bones out of someone’s arm instead of healing them. How dumb can you be?” 

Harry was grateful that the atmosphere in the room had brightened. Then Lucius hummed. “Well, Gilderoy was quite a fraud, I’m told. He was utterly inept.”

Molly huffed then. “You shouldn’t speak poorly of the mentally ill, you know. Gilderoy Lockhart was a lovely man who is in St. Mungo’s for the rest of his life now.”

Subdued, everyone ate silently for a few minutes after that until, in an effort to break the tension Arthur spoke for the first time, “How is your son doing these days, Lucius?”

Lucius looked down briefly before meeting the Weasley patriarch’s kind eyes. “I haven’t spoken to my son in several years. As I understand it, he’ll be marrying the youngest Greengrass girl fairly soon, though.”

“Ah,” Arthur replied awkwardly. “Well, I’m sure they’re a wonderful match.”

Lucius nodded politely if a bit stiffly, “Quite.”

Harry squeezed his Daddy’s thigh under the table. “Oh, but I’ve seen Draco lately!” he said and then relayed the whole story of Draco barging into Lucius’ study, of him being dressed a bit too comfortably for polite company, of telling Draco “My Daddy will hear about this!” Everyone laughed loudly at that, the tension in the room broken yet again at poor Draco’s expense.

“Wait,” Ron asked lamely when the laughter had died down, “Why would you call him your daddy?”

“Oh Ronald,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Oi, is it some kind of,” he lowered his voice pointlessly, “is it some kind of... of a fetish thing?” 

Harry looked at him flatly for a moment, unsure exactly what to say. He glanced over at Lucius who merely quirked an eyebrow at him, a dry look of amusement on his regal face. That caused Harry to break into a wide grin. He looked back at Ron, smiling, and said “Yes. Yes, it is Ron,” laughing as his friend's face turned crimson.

The rest of the evening was that same kind of chaos. Laughter rang loudly one minute, shouting permeated the peace of the Manor the next. The conversation bounced around in a truly disorderly fashion. 

One moment Lucius and Hermione were arguing about the Ministry, the next Harry was relaying the story of Lucius’ fight with Pidgwidgeon. One moment, George was shouting at Lucius for referring to Voldemort as the Dark Lord, the next everyone was laughing as Lucius suggested in his posh accent, "What would you have me call him, then? Old Moldy Shorts?" 

Even Harry struggled to keep up with it all at times and Lucius grew more and more bewildered as time went on. In spite of the wild emotions running through the tense room, he kept his fingers laced together with Lucius’ knowing that when it was all over, they’d pick up the pieces for one another again.

The hour had grown late when everyone decided it was time to go back home. Molly hugged Harry warmly as she left, then patted Lucius’ pale cheek. “We’ll see you two at the same time next week,” she said kindly. “We’ll plan to meet at the Burrow, dear, so don’t worry yourselves about it.”

Harry looked to Lucius when the gingers were all gone and the Manor was quiet once again. His pale hair had frizzed like a halo around his perfect face, his grey eyes were wild. “Did we just… get adopted by Weasleys?” he asked.

Harry laughed and hugged Lucius tightly. “I think we did, Daddy. Is it okay?”

Lucius sighed. “Darling, I probably shouldn’t let you in on this, but there is nothing you could possibly bring to my life that wouldn’t be okay. Anything you have in mind.” 

Harry leaned up and planted a kiss on his Daddy’s soft lips. He smiled softly at the strong, incredible man that had rescued him, had given him a home and a family and so much excitement and love. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final scene is inspired by the dinner party in the Friday Night's Alright for Fighting episode of Gilmore Girls. I'm not sure I did it justice, but that was in my mind as I wrote the chaos that was a bunch of Weasleys having dinner in Malfoy Manor.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it!!


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